Burning in the Rain
by ImaXXeatXXyeh
Summary: After receiving a letter explaining that her fiancé, Rick O'Connell, is not dead after all, Cordelia Lockhart sets out to Cairo to find and save him. Little does she know that Rick is obliged to take Evelyn and Jonathan to Hamunaptra. Will Cordie feel obligated to finish out the arranged marriage, or is the lure of the mysterious desert Medjai too strong a pull for her to resist?
1. Surprises

**I**

**Surprises  
**

_Dear Miss Lockhart_

_Where do I start? My name is Evelyn Carnahan. You don't know me. In fact, I am not rightly sure whether there is any connection between us whatsoever. But I do not wish to dwell on introductions, for I hope and assume that I will be meeting you very shortly. _

_I have some very important information for you, Miss Lockhart, so I will cut straight to the chase._

_I am under the impression that your fiancé, Rick O'Connell, whom you believed to be dead these past three years, is alive and is currently in the Cairo prison under charges of deserting his post in the French Foreign Legion. _

_Yet it is not only Mr. O'Connell that I wish to confront you about. I would have gone to see him if I hadn't been informed that he had a fiancée under the name of Cordelia Lockhart. I thought I would contact you before indulging in on my plans which I plan to share with you when we first meet. There is much more behind this than you think. _

_I am aware that this is much to take in, or that you may not even believe me. But whether your belief is frail or not, I do wish you to come see my brother and me as soon as possible._

_There is much to talk about._

_1436 Remalio Dr., Cairo, Egypt. _

_Sincerely, _

_Evelyn Carnahan_

Cordelia clutched the thin piece of paper tightly between her nimble fingers, her eyes darting back and forth across the letter several times before the words of Evelyn Carnahan finally began to sink in. Her heart slowed to a concerned state before picking up to an alarming rate.

The letter fell through Cordelia's fingers and onto the white-tiled conservatory floor. She absentmindedly picked up a handkerchief from the table in front of her and pressed it hard to her mouth, coughing back a sort of strangled gasp.

Her eyes grazed the yellowing paper that lay on the floor again, tracing her gaze over the word 'alive'.

"Alive . . ." she whispered, repeating her thoughts. Yet how was this possible? Three years prior a soldier had arrived on her doorstep with a mask of sympathy on and told her that her fiancé had died in battle in the Egyptian desert. Why wouldn't they tell her if Rick had survived? Did they even know? They must have. How else would someone report that he had committed treason?

Cordelia lowered the handkerchief and bent down to pick up the letter, her eyes wide and head reeling. She re-read it several more times, feeling her heart reverberate throughout her body. She closed her eyes, wondering if this impossible conclusion was indeed a reality. She didn't know this woman, she didn't even know _of _her. Yet Cordelia could think of no reason why someone would try and fool her this way.

She opened her eyes and almost stumbled upon her dress as she got hastily to her feet.

"_Shit!" _she uttered, running her fingers through her loose curls and feeling faint in the head.

"Miss Lockhart!" said Mr. Thomas, who was only a few yards away, watering the geraniums. Yet Cordelia didn't have time to ridicule herself for foul language.

"Mr. Thomas, I need the next train to Cairo, _immediately!"_

_._

The train ride from Giveh to Cairo was not generally that long, but the overbearing thought of Cordelia's fiancé still being alive and that he was possibly only a couple of hours away made the entire traveling experience feel like an eternity.

Cordelia had barely been able to get herself properly dressed for the public eye, claiming to her maids that she didn't care what she looked like just as long as she could get to Cairo as soon as possible. Yet the head maid, Mrs. White, was a stern and grouchy old woman who reminded Cordelia slightly of an old, bad-tempered vulture.

She had picked out a dress of velvety maroon with a flattering 'V' neckline and had several other maids tie up Cordelia's corset and undergarments, despite her many protests.

"Your mother and father will not approve of you gallivanting off to Cairo while they are away in England," Mrs. White had grumbled, pulling Cordelia's mane of brown hair fiercely back with her brush.

"You do not understand," Cordelia had retorted, wincing as Mrs. White pulled a lock of her hair back. "Rick—"

"O'Connell?" spluttered Mrs. White, pining the last bit of Cordelia's hair up.

Cordelia didn't wait to answer. She got to her feet.

"What of your bags?"

"I will send you the address!" Cordelia called over her shoulder, already halfway down the curved staircase. She could imagine Mrs. White snorting indignantly at her comment.

Now she stared out of the train window at the dusty deserts of Egypt, or at the stragglers and pedestrians when they were passing through a small town. The entire time, Cordelia clutched Evelyn's letter tightly between her white-laced gloved fingers and re-read the same line over and over again.

_I am under the impression that your fiancée, Rick O'Connell, whom you believed to be dead these past three years, is alive _

Cordelia didn't dare herself a minute of happiness at the though of Rick being alive; what if it turned out this was some sick joke? Cordelia didn't know if she could stand to have her hopes raised only to be crushed before her.

But she was surprising herself. Cordelia and Rick's marriage had been arranged in their teen years, and though Cordelia found Rick a fine and reasonable man(if a bit roguish)could she ever say that she had ever truly been in love with him? That remained to be seen.

Yet whether Cordelia Lockhart loved Rick O'Connell or not, if he was alive she would not be abandoning him anytime soon.

* * *

**Tell me what you guys think so far :) reviews are very motivational.**


	2. Bitter Reunion

**The story is a little shifted compared to the movie, but it roughly goes along the same storyline :) Reviews and follows/favorites would be very amazing. Please with a cherry on top?**

**Thank you for reading! **

* * *

**II**

**Bitter Reunion  
**

Cordelia stood outside the flat, 1436 Remalio, kneading her knuckles into her sweaty palm and running her tongue over her lips, tasting the dull tang of her lipstick. She fidgeted unnecessarily with the buttons on the front of her dress, then realized there was no further point in delaying her visit. She breathed heavily out of her nose and raised her hand and knocked three times upon the heavily polished, green, wooden door.

She could sense movement from within and felt her tongue dry within her mouth. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing a young woman with an astute posture, dark hair pulled back, and kind face. She didn't look much older than Cordelia. Her eyes were a brownish hazel which crinkled upward slightly as she smiled at the sight of Cordelia standing on the doorstep.

Cordelia opened her mouth to speak, but found her voice stuck in the back of her throat. She cleared her throat and tried again.

"Evelyn Carnahan?"

The woman smiled, nodding her head.

"And you must be Cordelia," she said, her smile suffering slightly. "Please, come in." She backed up slightly so she could allow Cordelia entry, and she obliged, taking tender steps as she walked inside the widely spaced apartment.

"Thank you for coming so soon," Evelyn said, shutting the door behind her. "Would you like anything? Coffee? Tea?"

"Do you have anything stronger?" Cordelia inquired.

Evelyn looked slightly surprised, but it was replaced with friendliness again almost at once.

"I believe my brother has a bottle of whiskey stored somewhere. Is that sufficient?"

"Please."

Evelyn nodded her head to the living area.

"Take a seat," she offered.

"Thank you."

Cordelia made her way into the next room and seated herself on the squashy sofa, looking around her. It was a modest and humble home, not large and expensive, but homey and comfortable. Cordelia's eyes grazed over the walls where many pictures were put up, most of them of Evelyn, of what Cordelia guessed to be her brother, and an older man and woman who could be none other than Evelyn's parents.

Cordelia glanced down, pressing her knees together and trying to steady her breath. Evelyn returned shortly with a tray that held a teapot and a bottle of a whiskey along with two cups. Evelyn filled the first cup with the liquor and handed it to Cordelia, who drank the entire thing down in one gulp. Evelyn eyed her steadily as she poured herself a cup of steaming tea and sat opposite Cordelia.

"Now," said Cordelia, feeling the whiskey pleasantly burn her insides. "Can you please tell me what is going on?"

Evelyn took a modest sip of her tea, bringing the tray and saucer close to her lips. She glanced outside of the window out at the busy street before meeting Cordelia's brown gaze.

"Of course," she sat, setting aside her tea on the coffee table. "But please understand the only reason I'm going to show you what I have is because you are Rick's fiancée and I believe he can help my brother and me."

Cordelia's eyebrows narrowed slightly, confused at this comment. Yet she said nothing, but nodded her head once.

"First, are you familiar with the lost city, Hamunaptra?"

Cordelia was completely taken aback, but replied at once. "The city of the dead."

Evelyn's eyebrows rose in slight surprise, and Cordelia wasn't sure whether or not she should be offended that Evelyn wasn't expecting her to know the answer.

"I came from England to study ancient Egypt," explained Cordelia.

"Really?" said Evelyn, her surprisal merging into approval. "Can you speak the old language?"

"Roughly," Cordelia said. "I'm terrible with learning foreign languages to being with, but Egypt has always intrigued me. But please, tell me what Rick has to do with any of this?"

Evelyn breathed in a deep breath.

"I believe that Rick knows the way to Hamunaptra, which is located deep within the Egyptian deserts. Hamunaptra is also known to be the location where the Book of the Dead." Evelyn spoke fast, as if the words had been forced out of her.

It was Cordelia's turn to raise her eyebrows.

"Book of the Dead?" she repeated.

"Buried by Imhotep's sarcophagus," nodded Evy.

Cordelia was practically rendered speechless.

"What does this have to do with me?" Cordelia questioned, recovering herself.

"Nothing," Evelyn replied shortly. "I am merely informing you of my reasons to get Rick out of prison. What you do afterward is completely up to you."

Cordelia bit her lower lip, knowing the red lipstick was smudging over her front teeth.

"You want Rick to take you there?"

Evelyn nodded, her excitement ill disguised at this point. The corners of her mouth were stretching into a large smile, and her eyes were lit with a brightness that caused heavy curiosity within Cordelia. She had never met a woman like this one, and she still wasn't sure what to think of her.

But before she could say anything, the front door opened. In came a man with a pointed face and a patch of dark hair stop his head. The corners of his forehead were slight int heir lacking of hair, indicating he was a heavy drinker.

"Evy!" he called out. "I want to head back to the casino sometime later tonight. I'm pretty sure that big bloke, Fiddles or something, bugged me out of my winnings last night."

He walked into the living room, a slightly expectant look on his face until his eyes landed on Cordelia. He directed raised eyebrows towards Evelyn.

"Who's this?" the man inquired.

"Oh, Jonathan," said Evy, getting to her feet and walking up to the man. "This is Cordelia Lockhart. The one I told you about. Cordelia, this is my brother, Jonathan."

Cordelia managed a small smile.

"Hello," she said.

Jonathan gave Evy another look before bending down to take Cordelia's hand in his and kissing the top of it.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," said Jonathan, his blue eyes twinkling as they met Cordelia's.

"Cordelia is an engaged woman, Jonathan," said Evelyn, with a trace of humor in her voice. "To none other than that fellow you 'borrowed' that little star trinket from."

Jonathan's hand loosened at once over Cordelia's and stood up straight, awkwardly straightening his jacket and letting out a low breath.

"Right," he said casually, nodding his head to his sister. "Didn't you make an appointment to see that bloke today?"

Evelyn's eyes met Cordelia's as she suddenly looked at her.

"I did. And I'm glad you can be here for this. Are you ready to see your fiancée, Cordelia?"

.

Cordelia had only been in a prison once before in her life, and it had been a horrible happening. She really had no wish to relive the experience, yet the thought of Rick being alive kept her will strong. It was an extremely hot day, the Egyptian sun shining mercilessly down upon Evy, Jonathan, and Cordelia's necks. She was grateful she brought a sun hat that offered most protection for her fair skin, but dreaded the heavy dress she wore.

Feeling cold sweat dripping down the back of her neck, the three moved past the prison gates and were led by a warden by the name of Gad Hassan. Cordelia didn't like this man that much. He spoke in crude humor of all the begging prisoners whose arms were stretched desperately behind their bars and reaching out for Cordelia and the others.

According to Hassan, every captive in his prison, whether proven guilty or not, deserved to be behind bars because not a single person lived without guilt. Cordelia imagined he was the type of person to waver a good meal in front of his prisoners only to eat it in front of them.

"Now, Mr. O'Connell," Hassan said as they walked further, his comment mostly directed towards Cordelia. "Was turned in here a few weeks back under charges of getting into a bar fight, but later it was found that he abandoned his post in battle. I don't know much about where he was before that, but I just know I spent a good few weeks in trial fighting for his death."

Cordelia attempted to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. She knew she was close; the fast pounding of her heart against her chest indicated as much. Her footsteps became leisure and she turned to Evy for mental support, who merely gave her a weak smile and nodded her head forward, indicating that they should keep walking.

Cordelia took a deep breath and pressed forward, following behind the stout and porky figure of Gad Hassan. He held up his hand, telling them to stop in front of a cramped, empty cell. Cordelia almost ran into the little man, her hand actually placed over her heart, which was threatening to jump out of her throat.

"Apparently, you make very good time," mused Hassan.

Two guardsman and a man appeared in the doorway of the cell, the two men beating down the third who was already crouched over in handcuffs. His matted, dirty brown hair in such tangles that it was impossible to tell its true length. His body was clothed in such filthy rags that they could have been any color.

At first, Cordelia was confused. She had no indication of who this man was. She was about to turn to Hassan to inform of this, but the man in the cell raised his head and met Cordelia's eyes. If it hadn't been for the familiar blue-green gaze that he held, Cordelia might go on with her assumption that she didn't know him.

His face was so rugged and unshaved that it hid most of his facial features that Cordelia had grown accustomed to. Yet at the sight of his eyes, her heart leaped.

"Rick?" she hardly dared to speak above a whisper as she knelt down and took the cell bars in her hands, her eyes studying the robust man before her. His eyebrows shot upward in both supreme surprise and confusion.

"Cordie?" he said, his voice light.

"Dear God," she breathed, her voice ragged and her head reeling. The sun above was not helping. She clung to the bars for support and leaned forward.

Despite the situation, Rick let out a hollow laugh.

"I'll be damned," he said, a humorless smile curling along his mouth. "I can certainly say I'm glad to see you, though you were the last person I assumed to see today."

"I thought you were dead!"

His expression turned stony.

"No. Not that I'm not surprised to be alive. What are you doing here?" he added.

She stared at him.

"You're joking," she said. "I get word that you're alive and you're wondering why I'm here? I came straight away."

His eyes met hers.

"Not to be the pessimistic one here, but you're timing isn't too great, princess."

Amidst everything, Cordelia felt a rush of agitation pointed towards Rick's painfully familiar lack of ability to take things seriously.

"This is how you talk after three years of not seeing each other?" she snorted, yet she couldn't say she was completely surprised. She couldn't recall one moment in their time together that Rick had ever replied to her in a tone that wasn't heavily coated in sly sarcasm. It was infuriating, but Cordelia set aside her frustrated feelings.

His eyes shifted behind Cordelia's shoulder.

"Who are they?" he said, one eyebrow arched.

Jonathan was determinately looking down at his shoes as though they suddenly fascinated him while Evelyn watched Rick with a mingle of uncertainty and curiosity.

Rick frowned at Jonathan.

"Hey, I know you from somewhere," he said, pointing a finger at him. Jonathan looked hastily up, suddenly shaking his head.

"No, no. I've just got—one of those faces, y'know—" but Jonathan wasn't able to finish his sentence as suddenly Rick's face dawned with realization and his fist bolted through the bars and hit Jonathan square in the jaw. Rick's fury was soon dampened, however, as suddenly one of the guards hit him painfully in the ribs with his stick.

Completely ignoring her brother's body now lying on the dusty ground, Evelyn pressed forward to introduce herself.

"Mr. O'Connell, my name is Evelyn Carnahan," said Evy, her voice strained with suppressed excitement. Rick fixed his gaze back onto Cordelia with a 'what the hell' look.

"Did you bring a fan club or something?" he uttered.

Cordelia wasn't sure how to reply, but Rick's attention went back to Evy.

"I am under the understanding that you know the way to Hamunaptra," Evy continued, her voice lowered into hushed tones. Rick raised his eyebrows, distancing himself slightly from the two women that leaned close to the bars.

"Hamunaptra?" he repeated. Evelyn nodded. Rick glanced at Cordelia, who merely shrugged.

"I came for you," she said. "I didn't know much about the voyage to the city of the dead."

Rick didn't respond, but focused his gaze on the pair of them.

"You really think that bringing my _fiancée _on your little adventurous was the smartest thing to do?" he asked of Evy, uttering the word 'fiancée' like a swear word. "Cordie wouldn't last two days out in that desert."

Cordelia seized him with a prominent glare.

"How have you not changed?" she said, her raised brows daring him to contradict her.

Rick merely smiled.

"Mr. O'Connell, I really had no intention of bringing Cordelia along on this trip, unless she wishes to," she added, taking a glance to Cordelia. "I merely informed her that you were alive."

Rick studied the pair of them with a wry smile.

"Yeah, I know the way to Hamunaptra," he said in a very nonchalant tone.

Both Cordelia and Evelyn's eyes widened in surprise.

"But—how—really?" Evy stammered.

"I know because I was there," he replied, seeming to take some amusement from the situation now. He looked at Cordelia. "That's where I was stationed."

Cordelia stared at Rick who stared back.

"You want to help your friends get to Hamunaptra?" he inquired of her, his tone jokingly light. Cordelia glanced at Evy who looked importantly back, as if Cordelia's next answer put Evy's life at stake. She turned back to Rick.

"Yes," she said at last. "And I want to come."

Rick gave her a slightly taunting smile.

"Come here," he said, motioning her to him with his finger. She frowned, but obliged. When her face was almost touching the bars of the cell, Rick grabbed her from under her chin and drew her face right up to his, planting a fierce and quick kiss upon her lips.

"Then get me the _hell _out of here!" he hissed.

Paralyzed by the surprise of the kiss, Cordelia didn't even move when Rick was taken roughly by his collar and forced back through the door and out of the cell.

"What, where are they taking him?" Cordelia demanded of the warden, getting to her feet.

"To be hanged," said Hassan, in an almost smug voice. "Apparently, he make very good time."

.

It was sick of how many people had gathered around the wooden platform where a noose was hanging from. It was sick how many cheers were reverberating off the stone walls, of how it indicated each and every man's lust for the sight of Rick's death.

Cordelia sat between Hassan and Evy, perched on the highest seat that overlooked the sight of Rick being herded up the wooden steps and towards his death. Rick's eyes found Cordelia sitting up there and looked up with disdain.

He didn't love her; he never did. He only ever toyed with the idea of ever marrying her, and truth be told no matter how much it hurt Cordelia's pride, she couldn't help but assume Rick was partly relieved he had been away for three years so he would not have to marry her.

But that did not make Cordelia a heartless bitch.

"Hassan, I will give you fifty pounds to save this man's life," Cordelia said firmly, not taking her eyes off Rick, who was now having the noose tightened around his neck.

"Offer higher, or he swings," said Hassan dismissively.

"He is my fiancée!" Cordelia said, still not looking away from Rick. Evy was beginning to take interest in the conversation. Her complexion was pale and her fingers were twitching slightly.

"Why should I care? That tells me nothing apart from that you have poor taste in men."

"One hundred pounds!"

Hassan raised his hand to the man in control of the trap door beneath Rick's feet, indicating him to stop. Cordelia's heart gave a temporary leap of relief.

"And what else?" said Hassan. "I am a very lonely man . . ."

Cordelia gave him an expression of disgust, and Hassan shrugged and urged the man in Arabic to continue the process.

Cordelia wracked her brains, thinking of any possible way to save Rick's life. She let out a short cry as suddenly the trapdoor under Rick's feet was released and his body released, the noose tighteneing painfully around his neck.

She shot up to her feet, her mouth open in a strangled scream that refused to leave her mouth.

"Aha!" laughed Hassan. "His neck did not break! Now we must watch him struggle."

"This man knows the way to Hamunaptra!" Evy gasped, who seemed just as eager to save rick as Cordelia was.

Hassan shot her a quick look.

"You _lie," _he uttered.

She gave him an offended look.

"I would _never—"_

"We will give you twenty percent of our findings if you release him," Cordelia said quickly, her eyes watching how blue Rick's face was getting under the Egyptian sun. Hassan considered.

"Fifty," he said.

"Thirty," intervened Evy.

"Twenty-five!" Hassan said, not seeming to realize what he just said.

"Ah! Deal!" said Cordelia triumphantly.

Hassan's face dawned with comprehension. He let out a wounded groan and shouted again to the man in Arabic. The rope was cut. Rick fell to the ground, gasping for breath and coughing.

Cordelia moved to the edge of the platform, staring down at Rick with a smirk, who stared back up with bloodshot eyes.

Funnily enough, the only thing Cordelia could think of now was the sight of her mother's expression if she ever saw Rick O'Connell in the state he was in now, and know that she was the one to set Cordelia up with this man. High from relief, the thought brought high trails of amusement to Cordelia.

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**Tell me your thoughts? :)**


	3. Family Issues

**III**

**Family Issues**

"So how did a girl like you land with a man like O'Connell, anyway?" inquired Jonathan of Cordelia once they exited the car and onto the docks. Readjusting her bag over her shoulder, Cordelia looked up at him.

"The marriage was arranged four years ago, when I was twenty," Cordelia replied shortly, casting her gaze over her surroundings for any sign of Rick. They began making their way towards the large vessel.

"An arranged marriage?" Jonathan said, a sly edge to his voice as he walked between Evy and Cordie. "So, you don't love him?"

"Jonathan!" Evy snapped, hitting her brother upside the head with her purse.

"It's just he doesn't seem a man that any parent would want their child to marry," continued Jonathan pointedly. "Frankly, it doesn't make much sense. Aren't arranged marriages usually made for acquiring a large sum of money? Does O'Connell have a large stash of dough up those rags of his?"

"Rags, you say?" said a voice from behind them. The three of them turned in unison to find the keeper of the voice. It was none other than Rick, but he was most certainly not dressed in rags. His attire had been cleaned up to a modest white, button down shirt and tan trousers. His face was shaved clean, revealing his handsome features, and he had rid himself of his matted brown hair, proving to have an acceptable and decent haircut.

Cordelia stared at him for a full ten seconds, setting down her bag and earning an arched brow from Rick. Even Evy was staring at Rick with surprised yet twinkling eyes. This didn't bother Cordelia; for though Rick made her feel many feelings, frustration and anger being the two main ones, jealousy was never caused.

Yet she couldn't deny she had forgotten, or never full appreciated, how handsome Rick O'Connell was.

"You're gonna stare a hole through my brain," Rick said.

Cordelia caught herself and looked edgily away.

"You certainly got cleaned up well," she noted. Understatement of the year.

He gave her a sarcastic smile.

"I do a lot of things well, princess," he remarked. "Like giving advice. And I'm advising you not to come on this little voyage we got going on here. You're too—dainty to get mixed up with the crap that's going on in Hamunaptra."

Cordelia seized herself with a proud look, her chin high, and her dark eyes set straight on Rick's.

"This was my decision and I'll be damned if you can find a way to change my mind. Either accept that I'm tagging along, or don't."

Rick's eyebrows rose.

"And you really think daddy and mommy dearest are okay with their only daughter going out to discover the city of the dead in the Sahara desert? Do they even know you're here?"

"We do now!" cheered a voice from down the street. And just like when Rick had unexpectedly arrived, every single persons' head moved in the direction of the call. Cordelia was set back with an array of fear and disbelief.

Walking down the road was none other than her mother and father, followed behind a young Arabian man who looked to be carrying all of their belongings. Cordelia's mother, in a finest sun dress of baby-blue silk, had her usual yellow-blonde hair tied up in a neat updo. Yet her blue dress was stretched slightly over her large stomach, creating a rather disturbing image.

Opposed to Cordelia's mother's rather round figure, her father was as thin and tall as a board, his lanky knees barely visible in his overlarge brown trousers. His glasses were placed on the brim of his pointed, crooked nose, and he held a rather more stern face than Cordelia's mother.

Cordie gaped at the sight until both of her parents approached them. Her mother gave her a bone-crushing hug and her father nodded curtly in her direction.

"Mother, father," said Cordelia, realizing her effort to try to sound excited was in vain. "I thought you were on your way to England this morning?"

"We got caught up at the docks," shrugged Mrs. Lockhart, placing a pudgy hand upon Cordelia's shoulder. Almost on every single of her stump-like fingers held a jewel ring that was much too small. "A delay. Something wrong with the engine. Luckily, Mrs. White sent an immediate letter telling us where you were off to."

"We were most certainly not going to let you run amok with—Americans," uttered Mr. Lockhart, his little beady gaze scanning over a crowd of men who were boarding the ship and all had a very Southern, American style and were all shouting animatedly. "And going off into the Sahara desert to God knows what!"

"Not alone, anyway," cooed Mrs. Lockhart. "We're coming with you, darling."

"You're letting me go?" Cordelia asked, surprised.

"Of course," said Mrs. Lockhart with an airy laugh. "This is for your studies, isn't it? You're going into the desert to do college work?"

"Right," said Cordelia shortly with a glance towards the others. It took Cordelia a great deal of effort not to burst out laughing at the scene. Jonathan's mouth was slightly ajar as he registered the large size of Mrs. Lockhart, yet Cordie could tell his interest was more heavily endorsed upon the fancy and expensive jewels she wore. Evy looked momentarily stunned. Rick—well—he looked revolted.

Mrs. Lockhart's blue eyes shifted from her daughter to Rick and her smile grew.

"Richard O'Connell, my dear, dear boy," she purred, bumping her large waist into Cordelia so she was knocked aside and allowing Mrs. Lockhart to advance upon Rick, who looked as though a large nasty fly was approaching him. She took a hold of either side of his face and kissed him on each cheek with a prominent '_smooching' _sound, leaving behind two freshly print pink lipstick stains on his face.

Rick wasn't even trying to conceal that he was plainly disgusted.

"Mother!" said Cordelia, completely surprised. "You do know that Rick was proclaimed dead for over three years now, don't you?"

Mrs. Lockhart waved an impatient fat hand aside

"I never believed those soldiers for a second, a _second!" _she repeated as if suspicious no one would believe her. "Richard was always much too good to ever fall to his death in battle. I knew he was alive from the start."

Cordelia's mouth continued to hang open. Watching Mrs. Lockhart swoon over Rick, she know understood a large part of Rick's unwillingness to marry into the family.

"Not meaning to interrupt family fun time," said Jonathan loudly, who was looking like he was trying a great deal not to laugh. "But I assume none of us want to miss the boat?"

"No, no, good point!" said Rick hastily, grabbing his bags and turning on his heel, being the first one to board onto the ship at full speed.

"He's a sweetie, that one," said Mrs. Lockhart lightly, folding her hands over Cordelia's as they boarded. "Always able to make me laugh. He'll be a fine husband for you, my dear Cordelia."

"Mmm," Cordelia replied dully.

"I'm thinking a large summer wedding in England. Perhaps back at home, in London. Would you like that, Cordelia?"

But Cordelia was no longer listening to her mother's drawls. She didn't want her parents to be here and as much as she hated succumbing to the spoiled child, it downright wasn't fair. Though keeping it a secret from everyone, Cordelia had always dreamed of going on an adventure like this. Swordplay, daring escapes, riding into the desert on a camel, finding some long lost city.

Though the image she pictured in her mind definitely did not include her parents' involvement.

"Rooms 117, and 118," her mother was saying, having took Cordie's hand and dragged her away from the rest of the group. "How nice. We're right next to each other."

"Oh," said Cordelia, with ill-disguised disdain.

"I can help you unpack, darling. I had Jamal here carry a suitcase I packed for you."

"No, that's alright. I'm rather tired. I think I would like to rest before dinner."

Mrs. Lockhart smiled, her many chins rolling up against her neck. She tucked on of Cordelia's loose dark curls, so unlike her mother's blonde ones, and nodded her head.

"Very well, dear. I will meet you later in the dining area, yes?"

Cordelia gave a noncommittal nod before taking her keys and pressing them into the lock of door '118' and entering. The room was neatly decorated, but was refreshingly simple. It was not too big. Simple cot up against the wall, an antique writing desk, a mirror, bureau, and a bathroom.

Though the independence was what Cordelia was craving. She leaned against the shut door, kneading her eyes with her knuckles and taking a deep breath. She turned the oil lamp on and grabbed her suitcase, placing it on the desk and opening it. She put away many of her dresses and other various clothing in drawers of the bureau before falling, fully clothed, upon the soft cot.

She was unbelievably tired. And the entire thing with Rick and her parents was not helping. She dhifted her head so it rested on the pillow and closed her eyes, feeling the ship finally set off from the dock and sway on the Nile River.

She eventually dozed off into a deep sleep where she was visited by dreams of mummies and warriors, great lost tombs and undiscovered fortune, fighting the evil antagonist. Yet it wasn't Rick who was doing the fighting in the dreams; it wasn't he who held the weapon. Cordelia was the one perched with a sword hand and facing some unknown evil.

Cordelia's mouth curled into a smile as she slept.

.

Cordelia woke up one hour later, glancing at her clock to see that it was almost time for dinner. She got up and washed, dressed in a loose dress of magenta, and put her dark hair half-up so the rest rested alongside her shoulders and back. She applied her favorite crimson-red lipstick that she never left home without.

When satisfied with her overall appearance, she emerged from her room and found that the sun was just setting in the horizon, casting its last orangey rays over the surface of the river water. She walked down the steps before realizing she actually had no incline of where the dining hall was.

It couldn't be that hard to miss . . . a dining hall on a boat this size is bound to be large, right?

Yet also due to the ship's ample size, it made things slightly more difficult to find anything. And Cordelia guessed no one was around because they were all in the dining room eating dinner, wherever that may be.

Upon her second circulation of the ship, she found she was not the only one wondering. She saw the figure of Rick gazing at the wall where a map of the ship was perched. She hit herself mentally for not thinking of this herself.

He looked up as she approached.

"Oh. Hi," he said dismissively, turning back to the map.

"Lost?" she asked.

"Yep," he said, trailing his finger along the map surface.

"We're in the same boat," she said without thinking, realizing the stupidity of her words. Rick glanced at her, giving her a dry smile.

"Nice pun."

"I try."

He looked away again.

"I think the dining hall is somewhere on the first floor, I get that. But where are _we?"_

Cordelia peered over Rick's shoulder to inspect the map. She glanced to their right.

"Well, that's the entry to the pool room, right" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, it shows that the pool room is not far off from the dining hall."

"No," said Rick, but he took another glance at the map. "Yes."

"Then we're on the right track."

"Right," said Rick, an air of triumph in his voice.

"Shall we?" inquired Cordelia.

Rick just nodded and they continued to walk in slightly awkward silence.

"I'm not sure if I can trust you to lead us to the lost city of the dead when you can't even find the dining hall," chuckled Cordelia.

"Speak for yourself," said Rick.

"I'm not expected to lead this group to fame and fortune. I'm just tagging along."

"And I still beg the question: why?"

"Maybe I'm not as 'dainty' as you think," Cordelia said smartly.

Rick snorted.

"Maybe not, but you're still as stubborn and hot-headed as I remember, which still leads me to believe that you're going to get yourself killed."

"I'm surprised you remember anything about me," Cordelia said, slight anger flickering inside her. "I don't think you have the right to tell me what I am, and what I'm not."

Rick merely shrugged.

"Fair enough, princess."

"Would you please stop calling me that?"

"Why?" Rick laughed, actually almost stopping to register Cordelia with a dubious look.

"I'm not a princess. What makes you even call me that?"

"Because you're rich and spoiled like one," Rick replied without pause.

_Oh, _how he could infuriate her so! And within minutes! It was like he was intentionally trying to raise her anger and make her blood boil. Was that his plan all along? To make Cordelia so fed up with him that she plain out refused to ever marry him? Well, if so, then he was pretty damn close to getting his way.

"You are a monkey!" she retorted angrily, stopping in her tracks and glaring at Rick. He stopped walking, but he didn't automatically turn to face her.

"A—" he said, halfway in turning to look at her.

"A _monkey_!" she said again, more firmly. "You are an arrogant, thick-skulled, evil, little _monkey!"_

Rick was now fully facing her now, a single brow arched and an uncertain smile creeping along his lips.

"A monkey?" he repeated, taking a step closer. "_That's _the best you got?"

"Yes," she replied without shame. "Monkeys are always playing around, fooling people and never taking anything seriously. A man-child. I do not understand why you never talked to me with anything but sarcasm, but I can understand your disdain. That does not mean you have to act like a child."

Rick was trying to force his amusement through his confusion and slight irritation.

He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the sudden opening of a door not far off. Out emerged Jonathan, his face a shiny red and a large grin on his face. "You two!" he said drunkenly, pointing aimlessly at Rick and Cordelia. "I was jus' 'bout to go look for you. Come in! The party is—_hic—_smashing!"

Cordelia aimed a look of disdain towards Rick before striding past him and entering the dining hall at last, Rick following quietly behind.

* * *

**I hope I did okay with some of the descriptions and that the appearance of Cordelia's parents isn't too strange. As always, reviews would be most welcome and don't be afraid to be honest! I want to know how I'm doing!**


	4. Return of Old Friends

**IV**

**Return of Old Friends  
**

Cordelia sat back in her cushioned seat, crossing her arms as she registered the scene before her. Her mother and father were bombarding Rick with questions that were supposed to be polite curiosity, but Rick's expression told Cordie that he wished he was still lost on the ship.

"Where have you been these past few years?" Mrs. Lockhart inquired airily, taking a generous sip of her champagne glass that she held with her stump-like fingers.

"Um . . ." Rick absently glanced at Cordelia who wasn't sure whether to be glad out of spite at his discomfort, or annoyed at her parents for their constant array of nosiness.

"A glass of whiskey, please," Cordelia muttered to a passing by waiter.

"Why made you decide to enter the French Foreign Legion in the first place?" questioned Mr. Lockhart.

"We were promised a large sum of money after our services," said Rick stiffly, looking around for another server to refill his drink.

Cordelia snorted, causing the majority of the table to look over at her. She knew full well that Rick had only signed up to impress a pretty French girl when he was practically head over heels drunk.

"And how did that work out for you?" Mrs. Lockhart pushed.

Rick looked very much as if he wanted to say, 'does it look like I'm sitting high and mighty right now?', but obviously pushed back the impulse.

It only just dawned upon Cordelia that her parents would probably have no idea that Rick had spent that last few months in the Cairo prison. She wasn't sure how they would feel about their marriage if that information had been revealed. She never liked nor disliked this concept, but she was still fuming about Rick's childish attitude toward her.

"Not well considering I had been one of the only survivors of Hamunaptra," said Rick who seemed to be having increasing difficulty keeping a harsh edge out of his voice.

"Oh my," said Mrs. Lockhart sympathetically. "You poor, brave boy."

Cordelia downed her glass of liquor in one gulp as soon as it arrived, promptly asking for another. Rick attempted to give Cordelia's parents a smile, but it merely looked like he had a bad toothache.

"And now we're off to Hamunaptra to continue Cordelia's studies," said Mr. Lockhart, straightening his half-moon spectacles on the end of his crooked nose and shifting his beady eyes onto his daughter.

"Right. Studies," said Rick shiftily, glancing at Cordie.

Cordelia only now just realized how much of a nuisance her parents' sudden appearance was going to be. If they returned with a carriage full of lost treasure, it was going to take a remarkable excuse to convince her parents that it was for college. And were they going to be discovering the lost tombs with them? She could hardly imagine her porky mother and bony father climbing into some ancient Egyptian topographic point. Cordelia allowed herself a bit of amusement at the thought of her mother stumbling through some antediluvian Egyptian temple in her blue sun dress and a tray of her favorite sausage entrée.

"And what about you, dear girl?" Mr. Lockhart inquired of Evelyn, who he had obviously taken to immediately. "What brings you here on this journey?"

Evy looked slightly terrified at being addressed by Cordelia's father and gave out a nervous hiccup.

"Oh, not by many different reasons," said Evy.

"Archaeologist?"

"Egyptologist, mainly," she said.

"Same thing," said Jonathan, releasing a small drunken laugh. "You dig up many dead things and stick it in a museum for a high price. Think of a more interesting topic. Like, how Mr. O'Connell and Cordie over here happened to meet?"

Cordelia and Rick's eyes met, each mirroring each other's disdain for the subject.

"Not much of a story, actually," said Rick.

"Not much of one, indeed," said Cordelia.

"Oh, but what is wrong with the pair of you!" exclaimed Mrs. Lockhart, half laughing. "It was quite a romantic meeting, after all."

"No it wasn't," muttered Cordelia and Rick in unison, causing them to meet eyes once more with another glare.

Jonathan's little eyes swiveled from the pair of them, a grin curling along his lips.

"My curiosity begs you," he said.

"Oh, if the both of you are going to be so silly, _I'll _tell it," said Mrs. Lockhart pompously. Cordelia felt a sudden rush of apprehension and quickly sipped at her whiskey, hoping to get intoxicated sooner rather than later. She didn't think she was able to cope with this.

"You see, after practically _dragging _Cordelia from her bed after setting an appointment with Richard, we left to go to the Cairo zoo. It was a lovely day, as I recall. Rick was just as nervous as she was, let me tell you."

Cordelia saw out of the corner of her eye that Rick looked as though he was equally trying to get drunk as fast as possible.

"From the moment the two young lover's were face to face, I knew the marriage had been a good idea!" continued Mrs. Lockhart, completely oblivious to Cordelia and Rick's discomfort. "But you see, it was a very _hot _summer day and the maids had already picked out Cordelia's outfit; _tui damne _silk, the heaviest and most expensive French material. I fear that the heat was just too much for my Cordelia. The heat got to her head and she ended up fainting and falling right off the bridge they walked on, right into the crocodile pit!"

Evelyn placed a hand to her mouth and Jonathan's bloodshot eyes widened while Cordelia's rested her hand on her forehead and mentally begged for her mother to stop.

"Rick _jumped _right off that bridge and saved my Cordelia!" said Mrs. Lockhart loudly, red patches appearing on her pudgy cheeks. "Managed to carry her back up before the crocodiles knew what was going on. Anyway, they both ended up the front page of the morning paper and from then Rick was a hero amongst our family."

Cordelia took another large gulp of alcohol, relief washing over her as the room began to start spinning slightly. She could _not _remain sober for this.

"So that's why you hold such a torch for him," said Jonathan to Mrs. Lockhart. And in an undertone: "It's not like he's a very likable character, anyways."

Evy swat a hand to his side.

"Yes, well aside from Rick's heroic escapades, he never really mentions what he does in his spare time," said Cordelia without thinking. Everyone looked at her, her mother's expression scornful.

"What _are _you on about, dear girl?" she said scathingly.

"Cordie, maybe it's better if you lay off the drinks, yeah?" Rick said tentatively. Cordelia's blurred gaze struggled to linger on him, her eyes reducing to vertical slits.

"Like you would care," she muttered, downing the whiskey shot glass that had just recently been placed in front of her yet again. Her head was spinning and she could barely maintain a proper focus of her surroundings. On her right, her mother leaned in close to Cordelia's ear so only she could hear.

"You are making a fool of yourself! You said you had stopped drinking!"

Cordelia ignored her, tapping the edge of the empty glass against her forehead and frowning down at the ground. She could feel her face burn from the effect of the alcohol and the dining hall was much too stuffy and hot for her liking.

"Cordelia Rosette Lockhart!" her father spat, his gruff voice making his bushy mustache flutter. "You listen to your mother, do you hear me? Stop being an utter disgrace to the Lockhart name."

Cordelia shifted a glare onto her father, but she placed down the glass and sat back in her chair and crossed her arms like a child who was just told they had a timeout.

"Now then," said Mrs. Lockhart, peeling her beady little eyes off of her daughter and landing on Rick, her expression immediately softening. "Tell me about your time in the French Foreign Legion. You have me quite curious."

It was a tense dinner. Rick seemed as quite as content as Cordelia that he stopped talking with her parents as soon as possible, but as Cordelia knew this was not going to happen easily. As far as Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart were concerned, Rick O'Connell was an angel sent down from heaven and was a miracle bestowed upon the Lockhart family. Any word that was said against him was firmly put down by one of the two.

Cordelia could never convince her parents of his true roguish nature, let alone that he had never had feelings for her in any shape or form, and vice versa. She had tried to love him, honestly. But either their personalities were much too different or that she simply never worked up to Rick's tastes, it never happened.

As soon as their empty plates had been taken away(Mrs. Lockhart had had two servings of freshly caught lobster and was now dabbing her face with her handkerchief)Cordelia was having a difficult time walking in a straight line.

"Need some help getting to your room, lovely?" inquired Jonathan, who was also stumbling slightly on the spot as he rose from his seat.

"No, but a pain killer wouldn't go amiss," said Cordelia, rubbing her temples. All she wanted was solitude and go back to her room and fall into her bed, sleeping off the alcohol.

"Don't worry about the pain killers, love. I know how to get rid of that headache for you! Ow!" he added as Evy once again hit him upside the head. "Why are all women so _violent?" _

Taking her chance to slip away from the crowd, Cordelia slipped out of the dining room double doors and out onto the deck again, trying to see straight. She stumbled to get to the staircase, nearly tripping over the first step.

_Why did I have to drink so much? _She thought irritably, mentally hitting herself. Once she reached the second floor, her stomach gave a large lurch, causing her to stop dead in her tracks, cradling her upset stomach with her hand, the other placed over her mouth.

_I'm not going to make it to my room._

Hurriedly, she ran to the side of the ship, her hands clasping over the iron railing. She was sick for little under twenty seconds before withdrawing and resting her forehead that was covered with cold sweat against the cool railing.

Body shuddering slightly, she fell to her knees, still clutching the rail and breathing steadily.

She was an idiot to drink that much at dinner. She knew full well her body had never coped well with alcohol and almost always ended up being sick.

"Here."

Cordelia looked up, seeing the very unexpected materialization of Rick. In his extended arms he held a dampened cloth and a glass of water. With a small pause, Cordelia reached forward and took them, gulping down the water gratefully. She placed the wet rag over her forehead and looking up at Rick.

"You are an odd man, O'Connell," she said quietly.

"You wouldn't be the first to tell me that, actually."

Cordelia breathed out a little laugh, taking another sip of her water.

"My parents would flay me if I ever spoke ill of you, of course."

"Your parents," said Rick edgily, sliding down the railing and sitting a couple of feet from where Cordelia sat. "Will be the death of me."

"I don't doubt that."

There was a slight pause as Cordelia finished the remaining contents of her water. Feeling marginally better, she glanced at Rick through her dark curls, sighing out her nose.

"Do you know why you are odd, Rick?" she asked him steadily. He continued to stare at the wall opposite them, obviously not daring himself to make eye contact. He gave an non-committal grunt which told Cordelia that he was listening.

"Because first you show your plain distaste for me, and then you show yourself a true gentleman. I cannot make heads or tails of you."

"Maybe because I'm not a coin to make heads or tails of," he said smartly, at last glancing at her. Cordelia bit on her lower lip, or perhaps down on a smile.

She opened her mouth to respond with some laconic comment, but Rick suddenly raised his hand to silence her unspoken words. Eyebrows pushing together, she watched him get to his feet and creep towards a tower of stacked wooden crates.

She couldn't see what had alerted him until suddenly he reached forward and snatched something. There was a small cry as Rick brought out the struggling figure of a man, causing Cordelia's eyes to widen slightly as she got to her fight, knocking over the empty glass in the process.

"Hello, Beni!" Rick said with mocking happiness. The man was a scrawny little thing, a thin line of a mustache above his curling lip as he flinched at Rick's rough hold on him. He was lanky, slightly gangly, and had a sort of street-like look to him.

Cordelia had no idea who he was, but it was evident to her that Rick did. She also had no idea how Rick had had any idea that he was hiding there for she had been completely oblivious.

"O'Connell!" said the man with ill-attempt to sound joyful. "My dear, dear old friend . . ."

Cordelia noted some foreign accent in his voice, but couldn't precisely place it at the moment.

"Friend?" Rick snorted. "No, Beni. _Friends _don't leave friends to die out in the middle of the shit-desert!"

"Oh, but, O'Connell," Beni whimpered. "I have not your guts or bravery. You have no idea what it's like to be the coward I am."

"And so," said Rick, still with that malice of a smile as he tightened his grip around Beni's collar. "You slam the damn door in my face. Couldn't hold it open for just a few more seconds, _could _you, Beni?"

Beni coiled back into the wall behind him under the look Rick seized him with, his toes practically grazing the floor beneath him.

Cordelia watched the conversation with great curiosity, cocking her head slightly to the side like a dog wondering whether or not to proceed.

"There were those horseman surrounding the entire area! I panicked! Oh, but how glad I am to see you are at full health. Praise the Gods for I prayed for your safe return!"

"You'll be praying for a lot more in a second," growled Rick, his mocking demeanor fading slightly.

Beni's little eyes shot past Rick's shoulder and landed upon Cordelia who was still standing there with a blank expression. She had no idea what was going on.

"But you would not perform any violent actions in front of a _woman!" _said Beni in a panicked voice.

Rick only half-glanced at Cordelia behind him before turning to face Beni again. Cordelia half-expected him to throw him against the wall again, but his curiosity got the better of him.

"Just what exactly are you doing here?" Rick asked. Beni seemed relieved that he was talking in a lower tone and jumped to his answer at once.

"These Americans—they're not very bright," said Beni with a sly drawl in his voice, as if expecting Rick to suddenly agree with him. "Not like you, of course," he added quickly. "They pay a good price for a guide. I could never decline such an offer."

Rick shook his head in disgust.

"You would kill your own mother if the reward money was high enough," said Rick.

"My mother is dead, O'Connell," said Beni, as if in the vaguest hope that Rick would show any sympathy for this fact.

"Um, pardon me," said Cordelia, speaking up for the first time, glancing quickly from the two men. "But who is this man?"

Each of their eyes shifted onto her. With another edgy look, Rick released his hold over Beni who adjusted his collar promptly.

"A thousand apologies, miss," said Beni in obviously what he thought was a gentlemanly manner. "My name is Beni Gabor, an old friend of Rick's." He swooped down low into a bow, causing Rick to roll his eyes. "But I do not yet have the pleasure of knowing _your _name."

"Erm . . ." Cordelia wasn't sure how she felt about giving her name to a man whom Rick had just thrown up against the wall, but her instinctive politeness kicked in. "Cordelia Lockhart."

"A fine name, my sweet," he said smoothly, reaching for her hand and brushing his lips on the top of it. She felt his facial hair scratch the surface of her skin slightly as she raised her questioning eyes to Rick.

"Where did you find _this _one, O'Connell?" Beni jeered, standing back up with a confident smirk upon his face. Cordelia raised her eyebrows. He was talking as if Rick had picked her off the streets. But then again, maybe he had witnessed her being sick over the side of the ship.

"Believe me, she is not my own discovery," said Rick, making Cordelia's pride twinge slightly. "She's the one I told you about, Beni."

Beni shifted his beady little eyes upon Cordelia, comprehension dawning on his face.

"Sorry to tell you, luv, but Rick does not fancy you that much," he said. Cordelia merely frowned.

"So bold. Believe me, I have noticed," she shot back, a definite edge of anger to her voice. She wasn't sure why, but Beni out of all people saying that line so casually made her more angry than any other concept. Maybe it was the fact that Rick had been talking ill of her all the way out in Hamunaptra that made her all too distraught.

"Perhaps I shouldn't be intruding upon your reunion, then," she said cooly. Rick seized a breath, scratching his head awkwardly and looking like he was having a hard time finding his words. In the meantime, Beni looked slightly pleased with himself at the small amount of drama he had caused.

"You don't—_have _to go," Rick said quietly, not looking at her and looking like saying these words was costing him a great deal of manly pride.

She arched a single brow at him before turning and leaving.

"No, I don't. But believe me when I say I want to."

And with that, she turned her back on the two men, making her way back to her quarters with a dignified stride.

* * *

**Hey there! I really hope you're enjoying the story so far even if this isn't the most eventful chapter.**

**So I know I haven't been updating that frequently, anyway, but I don't have the best news. I'm going on a three-week camping trip and won't have access to my computer or Internet for that amount of time. In fact, I got up early enough to finish this chapter so I could post one before heading to the air port!**

**But I'll be hand writing there so I can come back and immediately copy things down! Thanks for understanding!**

**Also, don't be afraid to favorite and review just to tell me how I'm doing! Love you guys!**


	5. Over the Side

**V**

**Over the Side**

Cordelia had meant to go back to her room to retire for the night, but found her footsteps leading her to the back of the ship. She didn't think she'd be able to sleep with all these fuming thoughts soaring through her head, anyway.

She didn't even know why she was so angry. Perhaps it was just Rick talking about her to Beni all the way out in the Egyptian desert settled the suspicion that Rick didn't just not love her, but found her a nuisance. Her pride was the only thing wounded, however. But she dimly wondered what had _caused _Rick's such strong distaste for her in the first place.

She didn't feel that much drunk anymore, assuming the reason being that being sick and heated attitude burned through the intoxication.

Cordie reached the end of the ship, resting her hands upon the railing and gazing out into the Nile River that was touched by the luminescent glow of the full moon. The warm summer breeze ruffled her curls around her shoulders.

She wondered where her life was heading. As far as she knew, because of Rick's sudden re-appearance, the marriage would ensue as planned. But what then? Would she live the rest of her life in a loveless marriage condemned to nursing the children of a man who held no torch for her? It was a horrid scenario.

Yes, they bickered now, but how bad would it be if they were forced to _live _together? Forced to love? Forced to _make _love?

Cordelia continued to drift off into worried silence until someone spoke to her.

"Little lady, why are you standin' all alone over there?"

Cordelia turned to her left to a group of men all crowded around a round table, dealing cards and various colored chips. She didn't recognize any of them, but every one of them looked(to use a term out of her mother's dictionary)painfully American.

The one who had spoken to her was a spitting image of a stereotypical cowboy; white shirt with brown vest, tan chinos and suspenders, gaiters and a long red kerchief and hat. He was chewing a piece of tobacco as Cordelia could plainly see as he smiled toothily at her.

"Care to join us?" he asked.

She set her arms to her sides, looking at the crowd of men curiously.

"I don't gamble," she said.

"You don't have to gamble to sit with us, sweetie," he said, patting his hand on his empty lap. Even from here, Cordelia could smell the stench of liquor and was suddenly glad she was sober, for she was sure she would comply if otherwise.

"I'm fine, thank you," she said.

"Ah, you scared the pretty lady, Henderson," the one with round glasses said to the prior. He too had a heavy Southern drawl.

"We got so many Brits aboard this ship," said the man, ignoring his friend and spitting his slab of tobacco in a nearby spittoon, causing Cordelia to wrinkle her nose. Almost immediately after he reached for a small tin can and plopped in another bunch of brown tobacco. These men were the exact shape and form of American that her parents detested.

"You with them other folks, darlin'?" he pressed.

"I am," she answered shortly. She didn't particularly feel threatened by this group of men while she knew there was other people nearby, but Cordelia was raised by her pompous mother who was always going on about most Americans being filthy, un-Godly people. Rick of course being an exception.

"What's your name, little lady?" the man asked her, shifting his weight so he could look at Cordelia more clearly.

"Cordelia Lockhart." She was certainly giving out her name to many strange men tonight. She wasn't sure whether she was perturbed or amused by this fact.

"Well, Miss Lockhart, my name is Isaac. Isaac Henderson," he added, tipping his hat toward her, raising only to reveal a cheeky grin. "This here are my buddies. Bernard Burns—"

The man with the circular glasses nodded his head towards Cordie, smiling.

"David Daniels—"

David perhaps was the most uninterested in Cordelia, his eyes shifting back and forth on his cards. He glanced up at his name, looking towards Cordelia and then Isaac.

"Well, c'mon," he said impatiently to Isaac. "You draw."

"And, um, Allen Chamber . . . Chamber . . ." said Isaac, plainly not listening to Daniels and frowning at the fourth man.

"Chamberlain," the man said defiantly, dark eyes swerving onto Cordelia. He was the only one amongst them who was not American. She noticed he didn't have a hand of cards. She didn't like the way he looked at her with immediate disdain. She looked away awkwardly.

"So, pretty lady, you off to Hamunaptra, too?" asked Burns.

Again, she wasn't sure about revealing too much, but then she remembered she already admitted to be traveling with Rick.

"Yes," she said, her answer flat.

Chamberlain let out a snort that looked like was released against his will. Cordelia's eyes twitched onto him, but he didn't explain himself. She found the group of these men rather odd, but she couldn't exactly place it.

"Are you meaning to say that all of you are also going to Hamunaptra?" she inquired.

Isaac gave her a grin which exposed the slab of dark tobacco ridged between his molars. Cordelia wondered if he thought it was attractive.

"Why yes, little lady," he said slowly, blue eyes scanning her heavily, still with that maddening leer. "Guided by that little weasely fellow. Where'd he run off ta', anyway?" he directed at Mr. Burns.

"Helluv I know," said Burns, giving a small shrug as he shuffled the cards. "Ran off when we heard people coming. Weird little guy, innhe?"

Cordelia didn't doubt that they were all talking about Beni and this group was the Americans that were 'not that bright' that he had mentioned. Coming from a man she didn't know but irrevocably left off the vibe of a coward, she wasn't sure whether to take his words seriously or not.

"You're after the treasure then, sweetheart?" questioned Isaac, turning to accept his hand. Cordelia brushed a stray hair behind her ear.

Of course, the only reason Cordelia had come along on this entire journey in the first place was to prove to Rick that she wasn't as frail and weak as he presumed her to be. She now realized this was an entirely trivial manner.

Evelyn was the one who wanted to discover some long lost mummy and have her name be written down in the history books or in the information box that was placed in front of a display in a museum.

Although Cordelia might have been equally fascinated with ancient Egypt(if a bit less),running off into a long lost city was hardly away to sate her love. She loved books and studying in the mannerism and merely dreamed of adventure, yet she wasn't sure how she would deal with it if it actually walked up on her doorstep. Perhaps she just never expected it.

Nonetheless, she felt incredibly foolish.

"Partly," she answered. "My, uh, friends brought me along." She wasn't sure whether she was referring to Jonathan and Evy, or Rick.

"Well, I'm glad they did," said Isaac, shooting her another grin over his shoulder. Cordelia tried to smile, but her heart wasn't in it.

"Henderson, stop flirting. It's your turn," said Mr. Daniels irritably. Isaac tipped his hat once more toward Cordelia and then endorsed himself in the card game.

She stood there awkwardly for a few more moments before turning to head back to her room.

Shutting the door behind her, she had never been so grateful to be alone. She was exhausted both physically and mentally. Thinking about her engagement was enough to make her sick to her stomach. It wasn't a mystery to her now whether or not it was a good idea. In the past she had tried to cope with the idea, but Rick's stubborn disdain towards the idea never allowed her to. Well, perhaps it was good he did otherwise they would both be forcing their feelings toward each other. She just could never picture her mother ever agreeing to ending the marriage with her precious 'Ricky-kens'.

Now changed into her nightgown, Cordelia was running a brush through her loose dark hair merely to take her mind off things. She settled herself between the cot's sheets, punching her pillow into a more comfortable position before she closed her eyes and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

It felt like it had barely been twenty minutes her eyes had been closed when she heard gunfire.

Naturally, she assumed she was dreaming. But when she bolted upright, her hair a mess all over her face, she comprehended she was no longer sleeping. Also that there was rapid gun shots from just the other side of the wall, but she couldn't possibly come up with any other reason except for they were under attack.

She stumbled out of bed, the blankets wrapping fiercely around her and entrapping her to the floor. She struggled for a few moments before she heard the door open and grew frozen, her eyes wide.

She looked at the mirror that was placed opposite the door. It was difficult to see anything in the darkness, but she could see that the intruder was wearing heavy robes of dark crimson that almost covered his face completely.

Cordelia watched, terrified as the man scanned the room quickly, evidently looking to see if the room was indeed as empty as it appeared. It wasn't that big however, and after a few painstakingly fearful moments, he left, obviously in a great hurry.

Cordelia's lungs tightened painfully against her ribcage and she realized she had forgotten to breathe. She took in a great lungful of air and struggled to free herself from the blankets, stumbling to get to her feet.

For the first time in her life, she praised her clumsiness for she had no idea what might have happened if she had still been in that bed when the man walked in.

She stood there in the dark, contemplating about going outside and which decision was safer. What if she had another unwanted visitor? What if the ship was sinking? What if Rick, her parents, and all the others were in trouble?

At this last thought she had her mind made up. She had to see if they were okay. She couldn't hide here in the dark like the weak little mouse she had tried so hard to prove to Rick that she wasn't.

But she needed a weapon. Searching the room with maddening speed, her eyes landed on a candlestick sitting on the table by the door. She took out the half-burnt candle and weighed the candlestick in her hands. Much heavier than it looked. It must have been pure silver. Yes, this will do.

Taking a deep breath and mustering every ounce of courage that she wasn't even sure existed, Cordelia crept toward the door and opened it a centimeter.

The heat of the battle seemed to have moved to the other end of the ship because there was no longer any gunfire outside of her room. Slightly relieved but not overall reassured, she crept out onto the dock, gripping the candlestick between her nimble fingers like a sword.

She remembered her mother telling her that she was just next door and quickly ran to inspect, but the room was empty. What was more, the bed and covers were completely untouched, leaving Cordelia to assume her parents had never left the dining hall.

Cursing heavy swearwords that would be brash enough for Mrs. Lockhart to strike her across the face, she managed to get to the other side of the boat with encountering any obstacle.

However, when she reached a corner, something came sprinting towards her so quickly that she instinctively raised the candlestick and brought it down hard upon the runner's head. Though it wasn't a very good hit. Her arm had stumbled out of fear and didn't use as much strength as she could have.

Disoriented and terrified, she looked down upon the person she had just hit. It was the scrawny little man she had watched Rick throw up a wall. She almost dropper her weapon.

_"Beni!" _she gasped, meaning to bend down but sort of stumbled to her knees instead.

He was still conscious but muttering mindless things under his breath.

"No, tell Ajar I don't like it when she brings the butter . . ." he murmured.

"Beni, I am so sorry," she breathed, trying to elevate his head and examine the red bump materializing on the upper right corner of his forehead. Perhaps it was a very good thing her blow had gone astray, otherwise he might be dead. He wasn't even bleeding. Maybe the worst thing he would have would be a concussion. But what did she know! She was no paramedic!

This was also the last thing on earth that she needed happening when the ship was under attack!

Beni's eyelids flickered and he frowned up at Cordelia, face screwed up in concentration.

"You're Rick . . ." he muttered.

Oh dear, He thought she was Rick? She must have hit him harder than she thought. But he spoke again.

"You're Rick's girl," he finished.

Despite the dire situation, Cordelia felt a spread of prickled indignation at being referred to as 'Rick's girl', yet she hardly had time to be mad about it.

"Can you walk?" she demanded, feverishly checking on either side of her to see if anyone as coming. Beni murmured something indecipherable under his breath and Cordelia took that as a negative.

"Bleeding hell," she whispered, bending down and wrapping Beni's arm around her shoulder but almost fell down again. He was a lot heavier than she anticipated. But biting down on her breath, she heaved the majority of Beni's weight on her body and walked as fast as she could down the ship.

Breaths ragged and strained, Cordelia realized she was going to have a very hard time defending herself against any predators with Beni straining on her body like this. But she wouldn't let go of the candlestick; it was morale comforting to hold it.

All the while Beni continued to murmur nonsense. They reached the staircase and staggered down. Theb Cordelia smelled something that made her heart hammer into oblivion: smoke. The ship must have been on fire.

Cordelia nearly tripped over her feet, seeing imaged that she did not want to imagine. Images of her mother and father trapped in the dining hall surrounded by furious walls of orange fire.

An unbroken sob caught in her throat, but she charged forward. Yet barely had she moved ten yards when another person crossed her path. Another one of the red-robed men, drawing a long and nasty curved sword stumbled from a smoky room.

"You are one who wishes to travel to Hamunaptra," he said in a hoarse, accented voice.

But in her fear, the words were alien to Cordelia who merely stood there like a deer in headlights. However, the man had barely taken a step forward when there was an ear-splitting _BANG _and fell to his knees before falling flat on his face, a trail of his blood leaking towards the side of the ship.

She raised her head meekly to her savior. It was none other than the grinning Isaac Henderson, holding a smoking pistol in one hand and extending the other out for Cordelia to take.

"We gotta go," he said. By the tone of his voice, Cordelia would not have ever guessed theat they were standing on a ship that was being attack by Arab hooligans. It sounded as though he was having too much fun.

When she didn't respond(having recovering over the fact that death had just been swiped narrowly from her path), Isaac reached forward and ensnared his hand in hers and wrenched her and Beni forward. He took Beniupon his own shoulder to spare Cordelia the pain.

"Where are we _going!?" _she demanded, finding it useless and unwise to resist his pull.

"We jump," he said calmly. By his tone, he might have been suggesting they go on a stroll through a park.

This time Cordelia really did jerk her arm away, causing Isaac to swivel around.

"I can't!" she shouted. "My mother, my father! Rick! My friends!"

"No time for that, little lady!" he said, unexpectedly releasing Beni's immobile body so that it fell loosely onto the floor. Before Cordelia realized what was going on, Isaac charged forward and lifted Cordelia off her feet. She let out a soft gasp as he threw her over the ship's railing and sent her soaring through the air, hitting the murky, cold Nile river water below.

* * *

**So, had an amazing camping trip but I'm not back home yet! I had two weeks stuck in an RV with two empty notebooks just begging to have stories written in them. So the second I got a chance at a laptop, I copied them down and _voila! _Hope you enjoyed!**


	6. Wrong Side of the River

**VI**

**Wrong Side of the River  
**

The water encased over Cordelia like a cold, black, soundless cocoon. She struggled to resurface, her cotton nightgown weighing her down slightly. When her head peeked the surface, she took in a great lungful of night air and spit out a mouthful of water.

It wasn't two seconds later that she heard two more loud splashes on her right and knew Isaac and Beni must have jumped in after her.

Her eyes lifted up to the ship before her. It was in flames now and she realized where she would have been now if she had stayed in her room.

But her mother, her father . . . the others. Were they okay? Had they jumped, too? Had perhaps one of the red-robed warriors got to one of them before they could take the chance to escape?

She wanted to throw up. It would have been all her fault if her mother and father died. They only came because Cordelia was here, and she was here for one of the stupidest reasons she could think of! Damn her pride! Damn her inability to make a good decision! It might have very well cost her the lives of both of her parents.

"Duck your head!" she heard Isaac shout, for the first time panic in his voice. It was the panic that made Cordelia oblige so quickly and in a mere second a world of black blurriness surrounded her as he lowered her head into the water once more.

Then an astronomical sound reached Cordelia's ears, powerful enough to make her eardrums pound against her skull. The water was no longer completely dark, but lit up by a fiery chasm of angry, orange light.

When she could no longer hold her breath, Cordelia once more resurfaced. Burning debris was flung all around the river, scattered into tiny bits and leaving reflections in the water's surface.

The ship had exploded.

"We need to swim to shore quickly. The noise and lights would've attracted the crocs," said Isaac, and Cordelia saw his shadowed figure support the still-unconcious Beni and started out a sort of half-doggy paddle.

Cordelia swam, fueled by both the fear and imagery of the fearsome Egyptian reptiles creeping behind her, and the scenario of finding her friends and family back on shore.

It took five minutes to reach the beach and Cordelia heard the struggled breaths of Isaac swimming beside her who was obviously having difficulty keeping Beni's head above the water. Cordelia opened her mouth to offer to carry him instead, but only a weak croak escaped her lips.

Such relief washed over her when Cordelia's foot touched the sandy ground. She pulled herself out of the water and onto the dry sand, almost falling over in relief, but she forced herself to keep herself standing.

Little more half a dozen other survivors were also scurrying around the beach and she feverishly ran her gaze over the lot of them, but even in the dim light of the near full moon, she could not make out the round figure of her mother or the skinny build of her father. Rick was nowhere to be seen either. Or even Evy or Jonathan. Her heart dropped somewhere in her stomach region as she watched Isaac drop Beni's body onto the beach and fell down after him, breathing hard.

Cordelia remained standing because at least the pain in her legs made her think of something else rather than her parents and friends.

"That was a helluva ride," Isaac laughed.

Cordelia didn't answer, but watched several horses break from the currents of the water and immediately grabbed by a few men.

He sensed her dismay.

"Look, I'm sure your parents are fine," Isaac continued reassuringly, getting to his feet to stand beside Cordelia. "You mentioned that they were with that guy, Rick? Well, I met the guy. He seemed to know his stuff. If he was anywhere near your folks I'm sure he took care of 'em. They could be on the other side of the river."

Cordelia was both sickly amused and worried at the fact that Rick probably fantasized about leaving her parents on a burning boat on any night before this, but knew when it came down to it, he would never do that.

She turned to face Isaac with a sad smile that she knew he couldn't see, but hoped perhaps he could sense it in her voice.

"Thank you," she said.

He nodded.

"Henderson!" called a voice. They both turned in unison to see two other men run across the beach towards Cordie and Isaac. The voice belonged to David Daniels, accompanied closely by Mr. Burns.

"You sonofabitch!" Daniels laughed, slapping Isaac upside the back. "Thought we lost ya back in that explosion. Why'd ya run off like that?"

Isaac only temporarily glanced at Cordie who was lamenting over her sodden clothes that were clinging to her body in a very conspicuous manner.

Daniels and Burns followed his gaze and then back to Isaac with a grin.

"Always halfta act the hero, huh?" jeered Daniels. "Well, c'mon! Chambnerlain rounded up some horses and I'm not about to lose that bet to O'Connell!"

"You mean he's alive?" Cordelia asked quickly, hope rising in her chest. Daniels looked at her.

"If he wasn't, I wouldn't still be hurrying to get to Hamunaptra," he said. "Saw him and those Brit siblings across the river just now."

"Was anyone else with them?" she asked hurriedly.

"Hell, I dunno," he replied unhelpfully. "If there was anyone else, I didn't see them."

Dread filled the just newly arrived relief. Cordelia was pretty confident that if Mr. Daniels could not spot Mrs. Lockhart's massive figure, then it was most likely that her parents were not with Rick.

Feeling sick all over again, she glanced down at Beni who was stirring.

"What . . . ?" he muttered, curling his hands into balls and rubbing his eyes, looking much like an overgrown child. "Where am I?"

"Beni, finally comin' 'round, are ya?" said Isaac. He looked at Cordie. "How'd he get like this, anyhow?"

Pretending not to hear him, she bent beside the man who was becoming more conscious by the second.

"What is going on?" Beni demanded in a panicked tone, suddenly more alert, whirling around and taking in the scene before his eyes. "The ship . . . !"

His eyes found the burning residue lying a few hundred yards in the river's surface.

"Get off me!" he spat at Cordelia, scrambling to his feet. The others watched him as he ran to the edge of the beach and staring mournfully out at the burning ship. "_Oh!" _he groaned, actually kicking the water in anger. "All my money! I was running to my room to get it! Then . . ." he trailed off, face contorted with suppressed fury. His eyes roamed onto Cordelia. "_You _came out of nowhere!"

She stiffened, rising to her feet which proved to have an impressive stance since she was much taller than Beni. Yet she was still shattered from the previous events and wasn't sure if she was thinking straight.

"You bitch! You _attacked _me!" Beni screamed.

And then he charged forward like a rampaging bull and at that moment Cordelia felt as useless as the red flag.

But once again, she was saved by the cause of man. Isaac and the other two tackled Beni before he could get within five feet of Cordelia.

"Calm down, boy!" shouted Daniels. It didn't take much effort for the three men to hold Beni in place but he was practically spitting with rage.

"She—"

"You mean to tell us that one woman took ya' out, Beni?" sniggered Isaac as though daring him to admit it.

Beni stopped struggling and even in the dim light of the moon, Cordelia could see his face flush an ugly rust red.

"She caught me by surprise," he muttered defensively.

"Did you really flog him?" asked Isaac.

Cordelia brushed a hair behind her ear.

"I—hit him with a candlestick," she admitted solemnly.

Isaac blinked.

Then, all in frightening unison, all three of the American men threw their heads back and roared with laughter. She watched them with complete surprise, frowning. Beni looked further humiliated as he escaped from the clutches of them but did not attempt to attack Cordelia again. He stumbled across the beach to the other crowd of survivors.

"You're a riot, little lady," cooed Isaac, placing a hand upon Cordelia's shoulder and actually wiping away a few tears of mirth aside with a long finger.

"C'mon, Henderson!" Daniels called after he and Burns soon followed after Beni. "We have to get on the road _now. _If I get stuck with a shit-smellin' camel, I'll feed you to the crocs!"

"Come with us," said Isaac.

"My parents, though . . ." Cordelia murmured.

"If they're ali—well, theyll prolly be with Rick who's headin' to Hamunaptra. You'll find 'em there."

Although not entirely reassured, Cordelia couldn't deny that there was some logic in that statement. She also didn't want to be left alone on the beach all night, and she didn't have any way to navigate her way through an unknown desert.

She nodded and allowed Isaac to take her hand and lead her across the beach and accept the reins of a black mare. Isaac helped her up on the saddle before climbing up behind her and clicking his tongue so the horse moved forward and into the Egyptian desert.

Cordelia hoped with all her might that her parents, wherever they were, were alright.


	7. Last Sight of Dark Eyes

**Hey all! So, I'm not sure if you noticed, but the characters up there in the info box have turned from Rick and Ardeth, to Henderson and Ardeth. Funnily enough, I wasn't even considering Isaac's character until I wrote him out on that ship scene and then realized what fun it would be to include him. Who knows what kind of mischief he can stir up?**

**I think all of the Americans are lovely characters who are deeply underrated. I just had to take advantage of them.**

**Also, I just write what the characters whisper to me. Consider me a willing interpreter.**

* * *

**VII**

**Last Sight of Dark Eyes  
**

Rick helped the fallen Evy to her feet. She was practically blabbering nonsense under her breath, speaking about how all of her books and clothes were lost in the explosion. In Rick's opinion, that was the least of her worries. He had no idea who attacked the ship, but whoever they were did not want them to reach Hamunaptra, and Rick was sure there was bound to be more of them.

"Oh, _bleeding _hell. I haven't even got my hangover yet," he heard Jonathan mutter who had taken off one of his shoes and tipped it so a generous amount of water poured out. He groaned. "Figures the _second _we decide to rampage on some silly adventure our ship gets attacked by Egyptian hooligans!"

"Hey, why don't you keep your voice down?" suggested Rick. He looked towards the other side of the river where the crowd that had recently been there were now just descending out into the desert.

"_Oomf!"_

Rick glanced towards the brim of the water where, only just now, Mrs. and Mr. Lockhart were emerging from. It seemed as though Mr. Lockhart was trying to help Mrs. Lockhart get to her feet but his skinny little arms didn't possess enough strength to hurl his planet-of-a-wife to her feet.

Suppressing the greatest eye-roll, Rick moved forward and took Mrs. Lockhart's hand in his, bit down on his breath, and lifted her back to her feet. She was a nasty sight to meet. Her blonde curls had deflated around her shoulders and black makeup was streaming down her cheeks as if she had been crying ink.

As it turned out, she _was _crying.

"My Cordelia," she sobbed. "Oh, good God, is my Cordelia alright? Tell me!"

Was she really expecting Rick to know the answer to that? The last he had seen her she had stormed off toward the other end of the ship and supposedly went to her room. In truth, he couldn't see her surviving the boat invasion. She was the kind of girl to hide in her room and wait for everyone else to solve the problems.

No, his guess was that she had never left her bed chamber. He felt sick. As irritating and infuriating as the girl was, he had in no way ever wished _death _upon her. But he wasn't about to admit his theory to her parents.

"She could've ended up on the other side of the river," said Rick with ill reassurance.

"With the Americans?" Mrs. Lockhart croaked, wiping her eyes. Instead of fixing her appearance, this proved to have the much opposed effect considering now the mascara had smudged all over her face. Also, what sickly amused Rick was that she sounded much more anxious at the thought of Cordie gallivanting off with Daniels and the others than dying in the explosion.

"Yeah, well if that's true then we'll be seeing them soon," he said evasively, glancing toward Evy who was picking up the ends of her skirt to avoid dragging it in the sand. Shiftily, he walked beside her and cleared his throat awkwardly. "You alright?"

She glanced up. He could tell she was still completely shaken after the recent events, but otherwise seemed to be doing okay.

"Yes, I think so," she replied quietly. "But I am worried about Cordelia. No one was around to help her at the time. Do you suppose she made it out?"

Rick couldn't find it in himself to reply his true thoughts. He had to admit to himself that he was worried for Cordelia as well, but really could see no way she made it out alive unless there was someone who helped her, or she had enough brains to jump into the water.

"I dunno," he replied, suddenly aware of how boring he must sound to her. "We're heading to Hamunaptra now. Hopefully she'll be there."

Evy nodded but said nothing. He patted her once on the shoulder before turning to face the others.

"Were going now," he announced. "Not that I matters, but we have a head start. We'll stop by Aherem—this trading post—and get some supplies and horses."

"But we can't leave!" Mrs. Lockhart suddenly exclaimed, making Rick narrow his eyes at her. "Cordelia—"

"Look, lady," said Rick in an exasperated voice. "If Cordie made her way to the others, she's going in the same destination that we are. We aren't gaining anything by staying here."

Mrs. Lockhart opened her little mouth once more, but seemed to find no reply. She seemed to droop down hopelessly, her large aquamarine eyes—so unlike her daughter's dark ones—large with fear and sorrow.

Instead, it was Mr. Lockhart who spoke.

"She is all we have left," he said, and for the first time Rick had ever heard him, there was vulnerability in his voice. "Our only child." He placed his hands on his wife's who turned to weep into his shoulder.

Rick ran his fingers irrtiably through his hair. Didn't they understand that there was nothing he _could _do!? If Cordelia had indeed deceased in the ship explosion, what was he supposed to do? And if she was with the others, then why were they not _moving_!?

"If you want to find your daughter, then we go to Hamunaptra," he said firmly, trying to keep his heavy anger out of his voice.

The couple looked mournfully out into the water where the last pieces of ship residue were sinking into the depths of the Nile. Then slowly, they turned back to face him. They nodded.

"Good," said Rick, looking between all of them. "We head North, then."

And hopefully don't come across anymore obstacles.

.

Cordelia really wasn't expecting to sleep that night what with all that happened and hoe all of her fears seemed to be jabbing at her side like a hot poker, but the next thing she was aware of was someone tapping lightly on her shoulder and her eyes opening to blinding Egyptian sun.

"Wake up, little lady," Isaac said from behind her.

"Hamunaptra?" she said stupidly, blinking at the sudden light.

Isaac laughed lightly.

"Hardly. Aherem."

Rubbing her eyes, she looked at the scene set before her. Several hudded figures of tents were placed around a brick wall which Cordelia assumed was a well. Tied to a post were less than half a dozen camels all drinking out of a water barrel. There were not many people, but it looked to Cordelia that this was some sort of market place.

"We're stocking up," said Isaac, unmounting his horse and tying the reins to a nearby post and then extending his hand for Cordelia to take. She hesitated in taking it. Her mother had always taught her never to decline a gentleman's help(not that she would ever consider Isaac Henderson a gentleman)yet with Cordelia she had always had a strange source of pride that no young lady should ever have.

She slid off the horse with ease and Isaac withdrew his hand. Then she remembered she was still only wearing her nightgown. Isaac chuckled.

"Don't worry; there's gotta be a booth around here that sells lady clothes."

Cordelia held back a small chuckle and followed Isaac to the rest of the crowd.

"Burns is getting the food," said Daniels as Isaac and Cordie approached him. "We wouldn't go amiss by getting' some tents and other supplies like that. Henderson, try bargainin' with those folks over there."

"Of, course it would have been lovely getting a few things if only I had the _money," _Beni spat from nearby, clambering off his horse and setting a fierce glower towards her. She ignored him and pressed forward, looking at all of the booths where the natives of the land where selling their merchandise.

At some point Isaac has crept up behind her and slipped a few coin pieces into her palm.

"Don't mention to my buds that I'm doin' this, but buy yourself something pretty," he muttered, and then walked off. Cordelia closed her fingers over the Egyptian coins, the corners of her lips twitching.

Strangely, though the booths were limited, there seemed to be endless arrays of dresses that would suit Cordelia's tastes, all sold by helpful and friendly merchants. Though she spoke little Arabic, she was able to get her way around alright. The native girls practically swooned over her, fondling the cotton nightgown on her which must have felt very alien to them.

"You're not from around here," said one of the merchant men. He was a short, porky man with a round belly that overlapped his shirt. But his dark eyes were wide and kind and he appeared good-natured.

"No," she said, wondering why this wasn't obvious. His eyebrows raised as she spoke.

"You English?" he inquired.

"Yes," she replied, chuckling uncertainly.

"I thought all English have blue eyes."

"Not all. My mother and father do." It wasn't the first time she wondered where she had inherited her brown gaze from, or dark hair.

"We had several English here just a few hours ago. You swarm like cattle," he said. Cordelia looked quickly up from the inspection of an indigo dress.

"Really?" she pressed. "What did they look like? Were they with anyone?"

The man's eyebrows raised further at her curiosity, but considered.

"The woman was very pretty in face. Long, curly hair. I think the other was her husband—no, maybe brother. There was a tall American man, brown hair, blue eyes." He paused and Cordelia hung onto every second. "Two other middle-aged couple. Also English. One—" he spread his arms and made a large round figure. "Very large woman. The other, a skinny man."

Cordelia could have kissed the man. Her breath released sharply from her lips and she actually laughed. The relief was almost a form of high. She felt as though she could slip right out of her shoes.

"Oh, thank you!" she said, making the man give her a curious look.

"You know them?"

She nodded.

"You have been so much help, thank you," she said again. She took a long, flowy, Arabic-style dress that was dark crimson—her favorite color—from its rack and placed it upon the counter. "I will buy this, I think. How much?"

He considered.

"Perhaps we bargain," he suggested. "One coin, plus that cotton nightgown, and the dress is yours."

Cordelia agreed and paid him one gold coin. He directed her to a changing room in the back and was delighted at how the soft fabric of the foreign dress felt against her skin. She handed the man her old nightgown and exited the shop, practically skipping out of happiness.

"Do you like it?" Cordelia inquired of Isaac after finding him arguing in loud tones to a merchant who barely spoke a word of English. He registered her appearance slowly and let out a low whistle.

"You clean up nicely," he complimented. "Also, what makes you so perky all of a sudden?"

"My parents are alive," she said, elated. "They're with Rick."

He smiled.

"Glad to hear it, little lady. Told ya' they were alright."

"Thank you," she said, suddenly catching his arm in her hand. He suddenly looked at her. "Really. I might be at the bottom of the Nile if it weren't for you."

His lips coiled up in a smile and tipped his hat.

"Ah, don't mention it," he said. "I'm sure you would have found your way through it."

Cordelia tried to believe that, but she believed to some degree that Rick wasn't all wrong that she was but a fragile doll.

A little while after, they found the others and attached their newly bought items to the saddles of their horses and left the little trading post. After a while, Mr. Burns had offered his hat to Cordelia, telling her that it wasn't smart to leave you head uncovered in a day in Egypt. But then Isaac had intervened, claiming that Cordelia would look highly ridiculous in an overlarge, man's cowboy hat. He instead handed her a heavy scarf to wrap around her head.

They traveled all day, led by Beni who would occasionally leave pompous comments that suggested if it weren't for him, they would all be lost within the desert.

It wasn't until sunset did Beni tell them to stop and make camp.

"What? But we could get to Hamunaptra tonight if we just travel a few more hours," Daniels protested, frowning at Beni.

"My friend, you will understand shortly. O'Connell will be doing the same thing so do not think that they by any means have a head start."

With some trepidation, the men climbed off their horses and started to set up camp. They were based on the bottom of a large, sandy hill that hooked over them. Beni told them that it was named Hemerah Peu and that thousands of years ago it used to hold a watch tower that was used by the guards of Hamunaptra.

"Is there anything I can do?" Cordelia asked to the men at large.

"There ain't nothin' you have to do, little lady," said Isaac with a small smile. "You just sit there and look pretty."

These words made Cordelia feel slightly indignant. Of course, sexism was something that was overall accepted in this era, so she had been forced to make herself used to it. But she hated feeling useless.

She sat herself down upon a large boulder, resting her chin on her hand and watching the men pitch the tents, start the fire, and cook the food. She shuffled her feet in the sand, glancing up at the hill. It was hard to make out anything in the blood red light of the setting sun, so she squinted her eyes. She could have sworn she had just seen movement up there, but then fooled herself into believing it was a desert animal.

The fire had started when the sun was fully down and the little crowd of them gathered around it. Cordelia was already chilled and couldn't understand how one desert could be so scorching hot in the day, and absolutely freezing at night. She was even more disgruntled when she discovered dinner consisted of baked beans, chunks of sausage and made a very disturbing _plopping _sound as Daniels poured it into her bowl.

"Not used to our American food huh, darlin'?" said Burns with a small smile. "This isn't back home where you have fine cuisines at every meal."

Cordelia stirred her spoon uncertainly in the brown substance, wondering how her mother and father would react if she were even considering taking a bite out of it. She shrugged and placed a spoonful in her mouth. It wasn't as half bad as she assumed and her stomach was grumbling unhappily so she continued to eat it.

Afterward, Burns, Daniels, and the others declared they were going to get a early night so as to wake up early the next morning. That was leaving Isaac and Cordelia alone beside the slowly dying fire. He was seated with his legs crossed in front of him and his hat tipped slightly over his eyes.

"So, I've been dyin' to ask," said Isaac after a few silent moments, glancing at Cordie. "What in the Sam hell is a girl like you doin' on an escapade like this?"

Cordelia would find it embarrassing if not downright pathetic to admit the truth. So she bended it a little.

"My fiancée, er, Rick, took me along," she said. "It's quite a long story."

Isaac hesitated for a moment, then slowly turned to face her.

"Rick's your fiancée?" he asked.

"For three years now."

He arched a single brow.

"Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you don't sound overall happy about that."

Cordelia pressed her legs up against her chest, resting her chin on her knee and staring into the fire, watching its orangey flames dance in the air. It was strange considering that this had seperated her from her friends and family. It seemed so harmless now, but in a bigger version it could be considered the very depths of hell.

"Didn't mean to pry," said Isaac awkwardly, also shifting his gaze onto the fire.

"No, you wouldn't be assuming wrong," she admitted. "I—well, I don't know. I consider it more of an obligation. The marriage was arranged by my parents."

He glanced at her again, this time with genuine surprise.

"I thought arranged marriages were mostly made to lords or rich folks so a family could inherit their riches. O'Connell doesn't strike me as a the stuffy, rich lord type."

"Yes, they mostly are," she said. "Rick was a special case. He is also as much as against the marriage as I am, if not more."

"Well, that's just silly," said Issac, shifting his weight and relaxing his arms behind his head. She looked at him and he caught her questioning gaze. He shrugged. "Ain't marriage all supposed to be about lovin' each other, an' all that? It seems pretty ridiculous to me that both of you are against the marriage, and yet you both still go along with it. You could spend your life so much more happily."

Cordelia rendered into temporary silence. Wasn't that the entire situation in a nut shell? Those were the simple facts spoke outward, yet there really was nothing she could do about it. Her mother and father wouldn't hear a word against Rick, much less accept the fact that it would be a complete loveless marriage.

"What about you?" she asked after another silence. They glanced at each other. "What brought you down here?"

"Me?" he chuckled. "Ain't that much obvious?"

Cordelia frowned, brushing a hair behind her ear, then shook her head. Isaac shifted awkwardly, then reached into his breast pocket and took out the circular metal tin. He reached into it and plopped a bundle of tobacco in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. He glanced at Cordie.

"Back home I got a mother, niece, crippled father, and baby sister to take care of," he said with a small shrug. "This trip seemed a good opportunity to collect a few extra bucks."

"So you're in for the money?" she asked.

"Them Egyptians supposedly do keep a pretty penny hidden away in their tombs," he said. "Just tryin' to do some good. Back home I don't have much of the greatest reputation, so I was hopin' ta' prove some of 'em wrong. You see where I'm comin' from?"

"Yes," said Cordelia. Ironic. Wasn't that the exact reason she had came on the entire trip?

They drifted off into comfortable silence once more, and with the food finally settling in her stomach, Cordelia soon felt pleasantly sleepy. Evidently, she wasn't the only one.

"I'll see you in the mornin', little lady," said Isaac, getting to his feet and winking at her before descending into his tent on the far side of camp.

Cordelia waited until the last ember went out before going to her own little tent that was only big enough for one person. She snuggled herself between the blankets and was delighted to discover that it was surprisingly comfortable.

She stared at the ceiling of the tent for a few minutes, twiddling her fingers together. She was still high from relief at finding out that her parents were still alive, so it was slightly difficult for her to suspend into sleep. But after a while, she soon descended into a soft, pleasant slumber.

That slumber was soon interrupted however when the slightest of movements caused Cordie to drift on the brim of consciousness. Her eyes twitched open and at first all she saw was blackness, so it couldn't have been morning yet.

Her eyes then landed on the flap of the tent, and she realized that she had no woken up for no reason. A figure stood in the opening of the tent, a figure in long, black robes. All apart from his eyes were covered in the black cloth and the second that they saw Cordelia had reached consciousness, a hand was grasped to her mouth before she let out a scream.

"I am not going to hurt you," said the man in a hoarse, accented whisper. Cordelia struggled, trying to adjust her knees to kick away from him, but he had a controlled vise grip.

Were there more of them? Was it this person perhaps who belonged to the same group that had attacked their ship? In the seconds, Cordelia had true fear and panic coursing through her veins, making it nearly impossible to think.

"Please, do not struggle," whispered the man as he then pinned her to the ground. She yelled into his glove, but it was an ill attempt considering all noise was drowned out. She instead bit down on his fingers, but this proved to be no more useful.

Then, when she downright refused to calm herself, there was a sharp pain in the side of her neck and she let out a sharp gasp. Almost at once, she could feel her brain shut down and her entire body go immobile. She stared up with wide eyes at her attacker and just before slipping into unconsciousness once more, she saw the sight of intense, dark eyes that looked down into her face.

Then at last, she fainted.

* * *

**This long chapter was to make up for the last, crummy short one.**

**Soo, what did you think? Did you like Rick's perspective in the beginning? I'm guessing you know who the man is who kidnapped Cordie, eh?**

**Also, I got the most hilarious message the other day. Someone said that Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart reminded them of Victor's parents from the Corpse Bride, and let me say I am still humored by the thought because I hadn't even thought of that. Undoubtedly true, though.**

**Thank you for reading :)**


	8. Storyteller

**I have to say, thanks a lot for those of you who left some critical advice on the last chapter :) probably needed that because unfortunately I have to admit something; I do not always thoroughly reread the chapters that I post. Terrible, yes. Thinking I should maybe build up the patience for it.**

**Also, I'm sorry it took so long to get this out! College courses just started and to say the least I've had work that came tumbling down upon my lap with the force of an avalanche.**

**Anywho, thank you for reading! **

**VIII**

**Storyteller  
**

Cordelia's head drooped low in front of her chest, enough so that she was dimly aware of the increasing soreness in the back of her neck. She could feel her mind slowly awaken as well as her senses coming back to her. She opened her eyes to darkness, but not long after her vision adjusted. The ground was sandy but looked to be covering a brick floor.

Then all at once Cordie had remembered what happened and her body lurched forward suddenly, only to find that her wrists were bound together behind her around a wooden pole. She shifted her hands, trying to loosen the rope, but nothing she did made a difference. She tried to steady her heart that was pounding in her chest with the might of a racing horse.

Trying to take her mind off of her panic, she took in her surroundings instead. She seemed to be placed inside of a round, smallish tent. About fifteen feet in height and twenty five in width. It was still dark so it could have hardly been an hour since her kidnapping.

Her head was pounding with pain, yet not just from anticipation; a bad headache was spreading from her forehead area to the crown of her head. It was worse than a bad hangover.

She struggled a bit more, pulling on the ropes until she could feel the break of sweat on her temple. She relaxed, realizing she was not strong enough to break her bondage.

She judged against calling out. Who else but her captor could have been out there?

Yet why in the first place would anyone want to capture _her? _When it came down to it, Cordelia realized she was practically the most useless part of the group! What else did she do but follow behind in the adventurers' tracks, nothing but the delicate flower that had the bravery of a blueberry scone.

Why must _she _be the damsel in distress? What did this person want from her? If it were in fact not _persons. _They had not killed her, but that did nothing for her morale. For all she knew she was going to be tortured in the near future.

She closed her eyes, taking in even breaths through her nose. She could do nothing if she panicked, and if she allowed herself to wallow in self pity, then she would be no better than that delicate flower.

She could do nothing but wait. There was nothing in sight to have any potential use for; the entire tent was completely bare aside from the pole that she was tied to. She gritted her teeth, trying not to have a panic attack or come up with mental images of what her kidnappers might do to her. So she waited.

Yet she need not wait long. Within the first ten minutes of her consciousness, she could hear the figure of someone behind her, and guessed that the entrance of the tent must have been placed there so she could not see the outside.

"Who is there?" she said, her voice coming out a lot more frightened than she would have preferred.

There was only the slightest of pauses.

"It is only I," said a voice. It was slightly familiar, leaving Cordelia to assume that this was the person who had attacked her in her tent.

"Who is 'I'?"

The man circled around the pole, stopping to stand before her. She raised her head to try and see his features. His face was no longer concealed, yet the light was so dim that it hardly mattered.

"Who are you?" Cordelia whispered.

The man did not answer. She could feel his gaze comb her face and felt her body press further into the pole behind her.

"I will not harm you," he said, still in that calm, accented voice.

"You attacked me," she croaked. "Poisoned me."

"You are alive."

Cordelia felt as though she might cry if she spoke again, so she kept her mouth shut, biting down on a trembling lip and looking at anywhere but the man. Could she really believe this man when he told her she would not harm her? He had ingested her with venom, kidnapped her and tied her to a pole! She was finding it hard to trust anything he promised.

"What did you use on me?" she asked, surprised at how firm her voice remained.

"A simple formula concocted by my people," he murmured. "It will do little to harm you. The most you will feel is a strong headache."

It was impossible to tell his true intentions by merely listening to his voice. Cordelia wanted to shout at him, defy his name, but thought it unwise to anger him if he truly did intend to hurt her. She sat up straighter, tightening her wrists against the bondage, wincing slightly.

"Why have you captured me?"

The man hesitated for merely a moment before bending to his knees so he was at eye-level with Cordelia. She pressed herself further against the pole in attempt to increase the space between them, though it was in vain. There was enough light for Cordelia to make out the man's dark, intense eyes that were set beneath black, furrowed brows.

"You travel in the company of those who wish to travel to Hamunaptra?" he questioned.

Cordelia stared at him. That's what this was about? She had been visualizing some truly dreadful scenarios, most of them including desert hooligans who have not seen a woman in months. In a rush, Cordelia was suddenly oddly convinced that this was not the case.

"You wish to know of Hamunaptra?" she asked, and it was hard to cover the relief flowing from her voice.

The man stayed silent for several moments and Cordelia wondered whether he was going to answer at all. But,

"The man you travel with, Rick O'Connell," he said steadily. "He leads the expedition into the city, does he not?"

Cordelia looked at the man with uncertain fear. How would this desert man know Rick's name, much less that he was the leader into Hamunaptra? Did they perhaps have spies and have been watching them all this time? Was this man apart of the crowd that had attacked the ship?

"How would you know any of this?" she asked. "What else do you know?"

There was something in this man's dark eyes that convinced Cordelia that she would regret asking that.

"I know that your name is Cordelia Lockhart and that you are betrothed to this man, O'Connell, who had walked these parts no longer than three years previously."

Cordelia could feel her eyes widen past their frame.

"How could you know that!?" she demanded, her heart doing an odd jump in her chest. The simple fact that this stranger knew so much and had probably been spying on her the last twenty-four hours was enough to make her skin crawl. Her obliviousness to the situation was what scared her most. Where could he have been hiding, and how had she not noticed him?

"We are the guardians of the lost city," said the man in a straight, proud tone as he rose to his feet and stared down at Cordie. "We have eyes high and low, and we will not permit your friends to awaken the monster. You would not believe such tales."

Cordelia felt her head swim uncomfortably. Guardians? Monster? Did this mean this man was—_defending _the city? But then why would he take _her? _

"What tales are you talking about?" she asked. "What monster? Do not harm my friends!"

"We will do whatever is necessary to keep the monster in his slumber," he replied quietly. "Though I would prefer this not to end in bloodshed. That is why we have taken you."

Cordelia looked up at this man, studying his eyes as best she could in the darkness. She had no inclination what he meant by 'monster'. From what she could gather, he appeared to be speaking of some fairytale of a rising—_mummy _perhaps? The idea was of course preposterous. Though Cordelia thought it unwise to conflict with her kidnapper's beliefs. She did not want to anger him and cause her situation to be even more dire. Though strangely, the man's calm and soothing tone convinced a part of her that he truly did not wish to invoke any harm to her. It made her convinced when he said that he did not want to spill anymore blood.

She took a silent, slow breath, allowing it to fill her lungs and calm her system. It worked for the most part. She looked back at the man to discover he was capturing her with a curious expression.

"May I please know your name?" she inquired calmly, glad to hear that most of the panic had drained from her voice. "You know mine," she continued when he did not answer. "Please. If you truly wish to inflict no harm upon me you must care some. It would comfort me highly if I knew a little about you. Just a name."

He continued to stare down at her with an expression Cordie could not decipher. His face was set, eyes hardened and stance strong. He glanced towards the flap of the tent behind her, and it was obvious he was half of mind to leave. Cordelia let out a low breath, convinced he was not going to answer and lowered her head a little.

"Ardeth Bay," he said suddenly making Cordelia suddenly look up at him. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "I—my name is Ardeth Bay."

Cordelia felt her eyebrows knit together slightly as another silence ensued. In the distance she could hear voices gabble away in what she guessed was Arabic, though it hardly mattered because they were too far away for her to understand even if they spoke English. She focused her attention back upon the stranger.

"Ardeth," she repeated in a whisper. "You were the one who entered my tent?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Did you harm any of the others?" she asked edgily, wondering if perhaps that was how he reached her. Surely it would not go completely unnoticed that a man had crept into their camp and attacked her.

His heavy gaze caught hers again.

"No," he said, with the same simplicity as the first reply. Cordelia felt a great surge of relief. Where were Isaac and the others then? Had they even noticed her disappearance yet? Analyzing from the remaining darkness, it had only been a few hours since Ardeth had snatched her from her slumber. Were the others perhaps not even awake yet? Would they wake up only to discover her tent was empty? Would they attempt to rescue her? How would this affect their adventure to Hamunaptra?

Cordelia swallowed, attempting to moisten a particular stubborn dry spot on her tongue. She was sure this meant she was dehydrated and it was no wonder. Only the previous day they had traveled for hours in the hot, summer, Egyptian sun and Cordie had been too anxious to worry about simplicities such as dehydration. Though when it came down to it, Cordelia thought herself idiotic for considering this a trivial matter.

"What is this 'monster' that you spoke of?" she inquired, struggling to maintain an equally calm voice as his.

Ardeth watched her closely, eying her with a speculating gaze. It irritated Cordelia beyond belief that she could not predict his next move. He remained as puzzling as the dark gaze he held her with. Cordelia had often considered herself intuitive when it came to judging people, yet this man—who had arrived out of the blue—seemed to be conflicting with that ability.

"You truly desire to hear any tales from me?" Ardeth asked, and the corners of his lips actually twitched slightly as if he were about to smile. Yet it disappeared so quickly that Cordelia almost missed it. "From what I understand, the uneducated society you live in tends to shun out any stories us 'desert heathens' tell to the world."

Cordelia opened her mouth, preparing a retort to his comment 'uneducated society', but bit it back. She did not want to start a confrontation with this man who had utter control over her fate. The only weapon she had at her disposal at the moment was her mouth and wit, and she must use them wisely.

"Please," she said softly, making herself sound genuinely curious and it was not entirely forced. She was interested in what Ardeth had to say and wished to know more about this monster. "I wish for you to tell me."

He folded his arms and Cordelia watched as one of his thick, dark brows lifted in slight skepticism.

"You are curious," he said quietly. "You have just been poisoned, dragged here against your will, and tied to a post and you wish for me to tell you stories?"

Cordelia paused, reciting his words in her head. Yes, that did sound very ridiculous, didn't it?

"I've never been kidnapped before. I'm sorry that I do not have the proper reaction," answered Cordelia shortly.

This time, Cordelia clearly saw the smile flicker across his face. Though her morale was still low, it was comforting to know this man could perform an action as friendly as a smile.

"You say you do not wish to hurt me, and you mention this monster. Naturally, it would intrigue anyone's curiosity. If you are willing to tell me, I am willing to listen."

Again, Ardeth gave her that mysterious stare. It was a stare so intense and unmoving that it made Cordelia feel as if she was being X-Rayed and uncomfortably exposed. If only he could just glance away occasionally, maybe she wouldn't be undergoing such a sensation. Yet he seemed intent upon staring her down as if determined to bore a hole through her forehead.

"Three thousand years ago in the city of Thebes, the City of the Living, a man born to be the High Priest of the Pharaoh himself committed the forbidden crime of falling in love with his mistress, Anck-Su-Namun." He paused, apparently to observe how Cordelia reacted to the first bit of the story. She frowned slightly but otherwise said nothing and waited for him to continue.

She listened intently to his tale, of how the forbidden lovers were caught and Anck-Su-Namun brought a knife to her own gut, knowing that Imhotep was the only one who could resurrect her. Of how he had stolen her body from her crypt and brought her to the city of Hamunaptra to bring her soul from the Underworld.

Ardeth would continue to pause every now and then, allowing Cordelia to think over his words.

"Before the ritual could be completed, the Pharaoh's guards intruded and Imhotep was to be granted the most terrible and cruel of curses, the Hom Dai. A curse so terrible that Imhotep is the one and only who has ever had it bestowed upon him.

They buried him alive deep under the ground of Hamunaptra, under the statue of Anubis. For thousands of years, the ancestors of the Pharaoh's guard, the Medjai, were to guard the creature's tomb and ward off anyone who may bring him back. For if this were to happen, he would awake with the ten plagues of ancient Egypt and raise as a terrible and immortal being who would raid a trail of death."

He ended it on a rather dramatic tone. Yet another silence ensued and Cordelia stared up at Ardeth, not sure what to say or whether to say anything at all.

"The Medjai," she said softly. "I take it that's what you are. You protect this—Imhotep's tomb?"

"As my father before me, and his father before him. And so on."

Cordelia bit down on her lower lip, feeling how chapped it was. She received the slight irony tang of her own blood and released a sigh out her nose. She couldn't imagine an entire order protecting a fairytale for thousands of years without cause. Yet, like most people, she was not one to believe in such stories. It was not only utterly unbelievable, but completely ridiculous. A mummy rising from its grave? These were the types of stories that were told to children by parents who sat on their bed side.

Yet again, she refrained herself from speaking her mind.

"Are you the one who attacked our ship?" she asked suddenly.

Again, he hesitated before answering yet Cordelia already had her answer. She watched him with wide eyes, sure she should feel angry at him for this. Yet it was strangely a difficult emotion to feel. Was it perhaps because this desert warrior claimed a voice that talked in such soothing and calm notes that it made it complicated for Cordelia to imagine him ever hurting anyone?  
"We do whatever is necessary to keep the beast in his eternal slumber," Ardeth said.

Cordelia looked at the ground.

"I see."

She listened to the wind outside which had suddenly begin to howl noisily. She was suddenly grateful she had the tent around her for protection. She wondered if it was placed around her precisely for that reason. Though being kidnapped was not exactly her ideal situation, she could imagine it being done by much worse people.

Cordelia suddenly remembered something and looked up at Ardeth again.

"You mentioned you took me because you do not wish to spill anymore blood. Why would capturing me allow that?"

"You travel with O'Connell, your promised one. He will soon gain knowledge that you were taken from him and will undoubtedly do anything to get you back. We hope to make a deal with him; by returning you, he will leave this Godless city and never return."

Cordelia was rendered speechless, yet almost immediately overcame by dark humor.

"You will be sadly disappointed," she muttered, leaning her head against the pole and gazing to the side of the tent. She could feel Ardeth's curious stare. "If you think I am worth anything to Rick O'Connell then you might as well kill me now."

The words weighed heavily upon her tongue and her throat constricted painfully. She did not entirely believe what she just said, however. In the end, she was sure Rick would leave the city for Cordie's life not because he loved her, but because he was a practical man who had honor and nobility.

Cordelia looked back at Ardeth to see he was frowning.

"He is your betrothed, and you do not love him?" he asked.

Cordelia actually laughed, though it was a dry, humorless laugh.

"This cannot seem strange to you," she said. "I'm sure it must have happened at least once with your people. An arranged marriage," she added as his frown deepened.

"We try to love with those of whom we are meant to marry," said Ardeth. "You speak of this man with poison on your tongue. You make me curious as to why it would not only be unloving, but filled with loathing."

"I have tried," she said earnestly. "I have no real quarrel with Rick other than the fact that he considers me less important than the dirt on his shoe."

She suddenly wondered why she was having this conversation with this man, her kidnapper out of all people. Yet she felt relieved, like she was releasing herself of a heavy burden whose weight went unknown until lifted. After all, Cordelia did not have many people to talk to. Her parents wouldn't hear a word against Rick and she did not have many friends back home. Strangely, speaking to Ardeth on the matter seemed the most logical and satisfying.

"I will never understand the ways of your people," said Ardeth and he sounded genuinely befuddled. Though it wasn't enough to mask the slight uncertainty in his voice. Obviously, if Rick didn't accept the deal then it conflicted with his entire plan, leaving Cordelia useless to him.

There was suddenly a voice from behind, speaking in loud, rapid Arabic. Ardeth looked up at the man who had entered the tent, brows furrowing further. He glanced down once more at Cordelia who didn't strain her neck to see who the second stranger was.

Ardeth responded calmly in the same tongue and Cordelia wondered if he was repeating what she told him. She also wondered if she had been a fool to do so. It could have been the death of her if they thought she was no longer worth anything to them.

Ardeth moved forward and accepted something from the stranger. Cordelia heard the footsteps die away and assumed he had left. Ardeth once more bent beside Cordie, this time with something in his hands. She recognized it as a dried drinking gourd. From within, she could hear a substance splash around and the dry spot on her tongue practically trembled.

"You are thirsty?" Ardeth asked. She met his eyes. Now that he was closer, she could make out markings on his face, perhaps tattoos. Cordelia wondered if they were a symbol of the Medjai.

Cordelia straightened slightly and nodded her head slowly, yet due to her bonded wrists it would make it highly impossible for her to handle it. Yet Ardeth wasn't concerned by this. He raised the gourd to her lips and though surprised, she accepted his help and drank the water greedily. It was surprisingly yet delightfully chilled, sating the sticky dryness of her throat. What a wonderful thing water was! She had always taken it for granted any second before this. She had drank so quickly and feverishly that some of it spilled down her front, dampening her dress.

She was also incredibly surprised that Ardeth would even consider lifting a helping hand to her after she had told him that his plan was useless. Yet he seemed remarkably intent upon making sure she drank the rest of the gourd's contents.

Once he was sure that the gourd was nearing emptiness, he lifted it from Cordie's lips and she released a relieved sigh.

"Thank you," she said.

He hesitated, and Cordelia wondered if he thought it strange that she was showing gratitude. He wouldn't be the only one. Perhaps it was the curse her mother had left upon her; no matter the situation, show your manners. Even _if _he was a man who had just kidnapped you. Maybe it was just the after affect of the sun beaming down upon her head for so many hours.

Nonetheless, she didn't allow her thoughts to linger upon it for too long.

Ardeth merely nodded, watched her for a few more moments, then walked behind her and descended out of the tent.


End file.
